Publicity Shy
by martyni
Summary: Bella Swan is a semi-reclusive novelist whose life if turned upside down when she is thrust into the limelight on 'Strictly Come Dancing'. How will she cope with fame, big city life, dancing, and her dance partner, Edward Cullen? Set in the UK. AH
1. Chapter 1

_Knock, knock, knock._

I ignored the knock on my door and carried on writing. This, however, didn't deter

them.

_Knock, knock, knock_.

Once again, I studiously ignored them. Yet again, a minute later, three more knocks came on the door.

I stopped mid-sentence and put down my pen. Who could that be, and why couldn't they read?

Whenever I was writing, I put a note on the front door of my thatched cottage stating "Do not disturb. Writer hard at work." At first, people ignored it, but my neighbours soon learned not to ask me for a cup of sugar when that sign was up. My responses to answering the door had rapidly become legendary in Avebury, and it took a while for people to realise that I was only like that when I was disturbed while writing.

Whoever it was this time was about to learn never to disturb me again.

I stormed down the stairs and yanked open the door. The guilty party surprised me somewhat.

"Angela! What are you doing here? And, more importantly, can't you read?" I fumed, pointing at the sign. "I'm in the middle of working out an idea for a new novel, and you decide to disturb me. I thought you would have a vested interest in me writing a new novel."

"Sorry, but something came up that couldn't wait. Come on, we're going to the pub."

"No. I'm working, or I _was_. Whatever it is can wait; inspiration cannot," I huffed, slamming the door.

"BELLA! This cannot wait. Get out here now!" Angela yelled, banging her fists against the door.

The neighbours thought I was odd already, and I dreaded what they must be thinking now. So I opened the door a fraction, and sure enough, there were lots of tourists staring at Angela. I wasn't as bothered about tourists staring as I was about a local peering through their curtains and seeing this row. "Do you have to make a scene? I live here, for God's sake," I hissed at Angela, and I started closing the door _again_.

Angela grabbed hold of the handle and stopped me closing the door by whispering threateningly, "If you shut the door in my face again, I swear I'll just yell even louder."

"Arghh! How can there be is so urgent anyway? You're publicising my book, not saving anyone's life!" I opened the door and let her in, better to have her in my home than have a public argument. "Wait a moment. Why couldn't you just pick up a phone and call me rather than driving all the way here?" Angela worked in London and had never come to visit me. I liked it that way. What had been so urgent as to get her to drive all the way down here?

"You unhook your phone and unplug the Internet when you write. I tried calling you and clearly, I didn't get through. Anyway, this kind of proposition requires a face to face meeting."

That last sentence filled me with dread. "Oh God, what proposition?" I groaned.

"I'll tell you once we've got a beer down you."

This cannot be good. "Angela, what proposition?" I asked desperately.

"Come on. The drinks are on me; which way to the nearest bar?"

"Seeing as you have already successfully disrupted my writing, and have, inevitably, left me with writer's block, and are taking me to the pub, I'll come with you, but this is a one-off," I warned. "The Red Lion, is just around the corner. You're going to stand out like a sore thumb. Want to borrow any clothes?" Angela was dressed immaculately like a London professional, as always, wearing a pencil skirt, blouse and jacket that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

She quickly looked me up and down before answering, "No."

I grabbed my converse trainers and a jacket and reluctantly joined her.

"Bella! Why are you here? When I walked past your house earlier, you had your 'do not disturb' sign up. Didn't think I'd see you for days."

"Hey Pete, this fool made the mistake of disturbing me. Hopefully, she won't ever do it again," I added, glaring at Angela. "Pete, can I please introduce you to Angela Weber? She is publicising my latest book." Angela reached over to shake Pete's hand. It was quite an amusing sight seeing daintily dressed Angela shaking hands with a burly biker dressed in ancient black jeans and a t-shirt that barely covered his beer belly.

"Nice to meet you, Angela. Any friend of Bella is a friend of ours," Pete said, looking Angela over. "So what can I get you ladies? Will it be the usual, Bella?"

"Yep, a pint of Abbot's. Thanks, Pete. What are you having, Angela?"

"I'll have a small glass of Pinot Grigio, please." Pete looked nonplussed at Angela's order.

"She'll have a small white wine, Pete," I translated. Was Angela deliberately trying to embarrass me? She was coming off as pretentious. It had taken me a long time to get accepted in this community and I didn't want Pete to think I was pompous, too.

Angela paid for the drinks, and we sat down at a table next to a window in my wonderfully traditional local. I savoured the taste of my Abbot whilst Angela sipped her wine looking slightly confused at my enjoyment of real ale. When will she accept that real ale is delicious and is not exclusively a _man's_ drink? Next thing I'll discover is that she doesn't eat Yorkies because they have "It's not for girls" written on them.

"So, what is this proposition that I have to be drunk to even hear?"

"Before we get to that I've got some great news!" Angela squealed, "I can't believe you haven't noticed yet! Particularly with you having written a novel about an engagement ring!" And she shoved her left hand into my face. I focused and saw a big diamond on her ring finger. "Ben proposed!"

"Congratulations," I replied with real warmth, she truly loved Ben and had been with him for years. I'd never met him but whenever I saw Angela she frequently name dropped him. She was completely smitten.

I got up to give Angela a big hug and held my drink up to toast them, "To you and Ben."

"To Ben and I!" She cried chinking our glasses.

I hadn't had much experience with engagements, but I was fairly sure that convention requires me to ask how he proposed. "So, was the proposal terribly romantic?" I asked.

"Oh yes! He took me to The Ritz and we had a gorgeous three course meal." So far, so clichéd did he top it off by putting the ring in a glass of champagne? "I thought he'd propose then, but he didn't. Instead we went on a walk in St James Park and sat on the bench we always meet to have lunch. He got down on one knee and asked. It was perfect." Clearly Ben was much more romantic than I was giving him credit for.

"Sounds wonderful."

"It was…"

"When is the wedding?"

"June. We're getting married in my Dad's church; he'll be both the father of the bride and the vicar."

"You're a lucky woman."

"I am indeed."

All of this romance was difficult for me to take and in order to cope I had drunk the whole of my pint. "I'm going to get a top up, want one?" I asked Angela.

"No, I'm fine thanks."

When I came back to the table Angela's whole demeanour had changed and she seemed more serious and professional. It appeared that I'd finally find out why she was really there.

"Have you seen _Strictly Come Dancing_?" Angela asked carefully, eyeing up my drink, subtly hinting I should have some more. I took her advice and took a big swig. _Mmmmm…_ .

"Yes, and I love it; the dresses, the dances, the men…," _Strictly_ started off as a bit of a guilty pleasure, but after the first two series, I decided that I didn't care if people laughed at my love of the show. It is awesome, and they are missing out if they don't watch it.

"My fiancé." She giggled at getting to call him fiancé. "Ben, is working as a camera man on the show."

"Lucky him!" I interjected.

"One of the celebrities has caught glandular fever and has had to drop out. There is only a week and a half before the live shows start, and they really need someone to replace her. Ben suggested you, and the producers love the idea. They want you on the show."

What. The. Fuck? I reached for my pint and downed it in one. What other response was appropriate? I stood up and walked unsteadily to the bar to get a refill.

"You all right, Bells? You look like you've seen a ghost," Pete asked as he poured me another pint.

"Angela wants me to go on _Strictly Come Dancing_," I whispered, but my lips barely moved.

Pete guffawed, "Did you hear that, gents?" he asked the other locals in the bar. "Bella here is going on _Strictly Come Dancing_."

Laughter rang throughout the pub.

"I am NOT going on _Strictly_," I fumed in a stage whisper.

"Hey Angela, have you actually seen Bella dance?" Pete called from across the pub. "We had a Wurzel cover band here once, and Bella hit the scrumpy a little too hard. Seeing her dance to _Combine Harvester_ was the highlight of the night. My favourite part was when she tripped over her own feet, head-butted Brian's glass and got covered in scrumpy. Such a shame we didn't film it." Pete mimed wiping a tear away as he retold the story of what would be the most humiliating moment of my life were I able to remember it.

"See, Angela? You may never have seen me dance, but I can assure you that I absolutely cannot dance. Two left feet does not adequately describe the true nature of the situation here."

"So what? You go on TV and make a huge fool out of yourself. It'll be forgotten in a few weeks; however, lots of newspapers, magazines and TV shows will want to interview you, and during these interviews, you can conveniently mention that you have a new book coming out in a couple of months. You'll be at the top of the bestseller lists." Angela may have a point; despite being a prize winning author, I had trouble getting my books the publicity they needed, which was why I had employed her in the first place. But was public humiliation worth it to sell a few more books?

"Angela, I'm a writer, not a dancer, and I'm definitely not a celebrity. What kind of people go on that show? Actors, musicians, sports people, models. They are all performers - people the public actually knows! I am a little known author who loves her privacy. I like the fact that I have never been stopped on the street by someone wanting an autograph, and I do not want that to change. I am not a celebrity, and only celebrities who go on the show."

"You'll become a celebrity. Who knew who Chris Hollins was before he won last year?"

"The people who watched BBC Breakfast knew who Chris Hollins was: he presented the sports. No one knows who I am, and I want to keep it that way!"

"Don't hide your light under a bushel, Bella. If you want your books to achieve the acclaim they deserve, people need to hear about them and about you."

"Bells," yelled Pete, "how about I do you a deal? If you go on _Strictly_, I'll get the whole pub to vote for you, and you'll get a pint for each point the judges award you. All three of them." He laughed heartily as did all of the other locals. Bastard.

"How exactly will my dancing help people read my books?" I asked Angela, which should stump her.

"They'll introduce you as an author, and Bruce Forsyth will be bound to make some cringingly awful joke about your writing. As I mentioned earlier, you'll also get lots of interviews on other TV shows to promote _Strictly_, and you just utilise them to promote your books."

"Wouldn't getting me onto Richard and Judy's book club be more successful publicity-wise?"

"Richard and Judy's TV show got cancelled, never mind the book club; how are you so far behind the times?" Angela asked.

"Okay then, the equivalent of the book club."

"There isn't any."

"There must be a far better way to advertise a book than by dancing. I'm a serious author; get me onto Radio 4's Bookclub."

"_Strictly_ regularly gets eight million viewers; Radio 4's Bookclub will be lucky if it gets eight thousand listeners. Even if you don't get a chance to actively promote your book on _Strictly_, people will still want to know what you write and so they'll Google you. In case you haven't bothered to look at your own personal website recently, let me tell you that reviews of your books and links to Amazon are far more prominently featured than information about you."

"I would far rather be interviewed in my underwear by Jeremy Paxman than dance live on national TV."

"Paxman interviews politicians, not authors."

"Don't play dumb; you know exactly what I mean. I'm not prepared to humiliate myself on TV to promote my new book. There has to be better ways to do it."

"All right, if you won't do it for your book, do it for me," said Angela, changing tactics entirely and stopping me in my tracks.

"What?"

"I had to pull a lot of strings to get them to consider you. When Ben told me that someone had to drop out, I practically begged him to suggest you to the producers. You don't want to know what I had to do to get him to talk to them." Angela was right; I really didn't want to know what kind of favour Ben required her to return. "It would be so embarrassing to have to call them up and tell the producers that you won't do it. Please."

I was still unconvinced, so Angela changed her approach again.

"This isn't just about your career here Bella; mine is on the line, too. If this succeeds, I'll suddenly be in high demand as will you. I'll be with you every step of the way; I'll coach you through the interviews and make sure you don't do anything you don't want to. Please," Angela begged. I liked Angela and I had a feeling that if I was to do this I would need a friend.

"Well, there would definitely have to be a no-fake-tan stipulation in my contract. I will not allow myself to be bright orange _ever_, let alone on national TV." _Why did I say that? It sounded like she had convinced me. Had she convinced me?_

Thinking she was winning, Angela went for the romantic angle. "Bella, I bet in your heart of hearts you've always wanted to be one of those girls who gets whirled around the dance floor by one of those wonderfully muscled gentlemen, haven't you?" Angela had me on that one. I have had quite a few dreams about one dancer in particular, Edward Cullen, dancing the salsa, waltz and rumba with me. And some of the dreams did not end in a way that was, _ahem_, appropriate for before the watershed.

I drank some more of my beer as I thought. On the negative side, I was certain to make a massive idiot of myself; walking on a flat, stable surface was difficult enough without being spun in circles at the same time. On the positive side, I was bound to meet Edward Cullen. However, I would probably go bright red in the face, embarrass myself, and hide until I am inevitably eliminated. Also I wouldn't be able to drink in this pub again without someone reminding me of my humiliation.

I pick up my glass and find that it is surprisingly light; it appears that I've finished my beer. Perhaps I should have another one or two whilst I consider the "proposition"…

"Bella, you're going to fabulous on _Strictly_. You'll win it. I can feel it in my waters," slurred Angela, her arm around my neck as we supported each other on our stumble to my cottage.

"I don't want to know about your waters, Angela," I giggled, almost tripping over a paving slab.

"But trust me. You'll be great. I'll be helping you all the way with interviews and stuff. And Ben will be around as well. You're not alone."

"Thanks Ange, you're the best. Oh. We're here now." I riffled through my pockets and found my keys. After a good ten seconds I located the keyhole with my key and opened the door. "Want some water? We'll have hang-overs if we aren't careful."

"Yeah, a glass would be great." We drank our hang-over prevention water very quickly.

"Do you want me to set the spare bedroom up for you?"

"No, I'll be fine on the sofa." Angela began to walk towards the living room before turning around, "Oh Bella, they want to come here and film a few things tomorrow morning."

"Okay, thanks for telling me, Ange."

Angela collapsed on the sofa and started snoring almost immediately. I threw a blanket over her before blundering up the stairs. I dropped onto my bed and succumbed to sleep.

_Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring._

God, what was that awful noise? I sat up quickly, and the room started swimming. My head throbbed. How much did I have to drink last night? Why was I drinking last night? I had intended to spend the day drafting my new novel, yet I think l ended up in The Red Lion.

Oh God, it was all coming back to me now: Angela, _Strictly Come Dancing_, real ale. I was so glad I said no to that ludicrous idea. I had said no, hadn't I?

_Oh, it's a phone that is making that racket. Where the hell is it? It is 6.30 a.m. for fuck's sake; who in their right mind calls at this time?_ I scrambled around and finally located the phone.

"Hello?" I answered groggily, my raging hangover making even saying hello difficult.

"Is this Bella Swan?"

"Yes, and who is this at this ungodly hour?" I asked rudely. Hell, they woke me rudely.

"This is Marc Butler, one of the producers on _Strictly Come Dancing_."

"Oh."

"I assume that Angela Weber has told you that we need to come to Avebury today to film your introduction to your dancing partner. We'll need to do an interview to introduce you to the audience, and then we'll film you meeting your dance partner. I'm sorry for the short notice but we are working on a very tight schedule. We aim to be with you at nine a.m."

"Okay"

"I look forward to meeting you. I think you'll be an interesting addition to the show."

"Thanks."

"See you at nine."

"See you then."

_Shit. What have I let myself in for?_ I don't even remember agreeing to this. I must've been really drunk last night.

I looked around my house and noticed that it really needs to be tidied up. Angela snored on my sofa. _Shit_. I peered into the mirror to see that I have that oh so attractive pulled-through-a-hedge-backwards look. I have two and a half hours to get myself and my house presentable, and I have a terrible hangover to contend with. _Double-shit_. Where did I put the ibuprofen?

A/N:

Avebury is a real place and one of my favourite places in the UK. .

Glossary of British slang terms, words, phrases and references that non-British readers may not be used to:

Bookclub: A Radio 4 programme that features book reviews and interviews with authors.

Glandular Fever: The disease that is called "Mono" in the US.

Jeremy Paxman: A TV interviewer whose no-nonsense approach makes politicians quake in their boots.

Pub: Slang for _Public House_, somewhere that serves alcohol. Like a bar but a pub will have a more traditional atmosphere and serve real ales and not cocktails.

Radio 4: A BBC radio station popular amongst educated people. Doesn't play music, instead has lots of spoken word programmes, like news, radio plays, documentaries and intellectual discussion programmes.

Real Ale: A beer brewed using more traditional ingredients and methods. Stereotypically drunk by men with big beards and beer bellies.

Strictly Come Dancing: The original Dancing with the Stars (it originated in the UK).

Scrumpy: Strongly alcoholic and sharp tasting cider from the (English) West Country. I dare you to try some, it's awesome (if you don't like your taste buds).

Watershed: The time after which TV networks assume kids will have gone to bed (generally 9 a.m.), and so swearing and sex is OK on TV.

The Wurzels: A British band that plays traditional(ish) music from the (English) West Country. You may know their single _Combine Harvester_. If you don't know it, look it up on Spotify or YouTube for a good laugh.

Yorkies: A crunchy English chocolate bar.


	2. The Introduction

Beta'd by the lovely Vampirefairies and rodeomom_95 from Project Team Beta. Without them this would have been a grammatical nightmare!

Alas, all the characters belong to Stephanie Meyer and not me...

EPOV

This year's _Strictly_ had not even started yet and my partner already had to pull out. This was not a good omen. I had to admit that I wasn't that annoyed about it. I'd met her a few weeks before and yet again I'd been paired with a diva. What was it about me that made the producers partner me with a popstar every year? I was fed up with it, frankly I was fed up of the whole programme, and I was close to giving up dancing entirely. If this year did not go well I was going to quit. When the producers told me that my partner caught glandular fever and had been forced to pull out I told them unequivocally that I would not dance with another diva. I did not want another arrogant and demanding partner.

I had no idea who they'd paired me with now; all I knew is that they didn't live anywhere close to London. I didn't particularly enjoy driving on the M25 and M4 at rush hour, and I had no idea where Avebury was. Instead I just thanked the gods of satellite navigation that they knew where I was going. The towns name rang a bell but I can't for the life of me remember why.

I had been on a long, winding country road for miles. It was pretty at first and because of the beautiful, warm sunshine I was able to have the top down on my Volvo coupe, which made it quite nice. I was enjoying the drive when I was able to drive at sixty miles an hour but then I got stuck up a tractors arse. Vehicles shouldn't be allowed on any road if they can't drive at the speed limit. Driving twenty in a sixty mph zone just leads to road rage. I bet he was deliberately not pulling over in order to piss me off more. I couldn't overtake him thanks to the winding road but that didn't stop several bikers in full leathers from overtaking me. Bloody farmers. Why people would choose to live in the countryside is beyond me.

I passed the time trying to work out what celebrity they may have given me. The only celebrities I'd heard of who lived in the countryside are ones who lived in huge estates and were living in the middle of nowhere precisely to try and get away from the media and paparazzi. Why someone like that would want to be on _Strictly_ was beyond me. Or perhaps my new partner was someone who was famous in the 1980s and then quit to start a family and now that their kids have grown up they've decided to have another shot at the limelight. Neither prospect is appealing, but as long as she's not a diva I didn't care.

I finally passed the town sign for Avebury, and I was almost there. On either side of the road there were huge rocks and they were getting bigger. Avebury and stones, lots of stones, _The Stones_! I finally put two and two together and remembered why I recognised the place name: _The Stones_, one of my favourite books was set here. I was only vaguely aware that it is a real place and suddenly I was there. It was so cool; hopefully I would get a chance to look around. Rosalie and Alice loved the book too, and I knew they would be very jealous that I was there and they're not. I decided that later I'd have to text them a photo of me in front of one of the stones. I took a deep breath and tried to stop being all fanboy because it's not like I was going to see Isabella Swan, the author, here.

I drove through the hamlet and took a sharp left. I passed a manor house and was surrounded by quaint cottages. What kind of celebrity would live here?

I parked and looked for the house. I spotted it quickly as there is a cameraman stood outside waiting for me.

"Edward, long time no see. How are you keeping?" I hadn't seen him since we wrapped the last series up, almost seven months previously.

"Hey Tom, I'm good thanks, and yourself?"

"Ah, you know."

"I assume this is my new partner's house? Shall we go in?"

"It is her house, but we're not allowed to go inside."

"What?"

"She said, and I quote, 'if you wake me up mid-hangover and only give me two and a half hours notice of your arrival you can't seriously expect me to make myself and my house presentable for TV.' And her publicist pointed out that filming in her home is not in the contract. I really wished I'd had the camera out at that point, they'd have loved it on _It Takes Two_."

"Have I got another diva? I said no divas!" I groaned.

"Don't worry, she's not a diva, just a little bit crazy," Tom joked. "Come on, they're waiting for us in the stone circle. Bloody good thing the weather is good; otherwise we'd be filming in the pub!"

The stones were part of an ancient stone circle, and someone built a pub in the middle of it. That is what I loved about England, the eccentricity and genius of some people. A pub in the middle of a stone circle? Pure brilliance. Looking around, this was clearly a very pretty hamlet; lots of old thatched cottages, a pretty church and sheep. I wouldn't want to live here, but I could see that it had some sort of appeal.

We walked into the stone circle and the film crew attached a microphone to me. A make-up artist tried to make me presentable but my crazy bronze hair refused to be tamed. After admonishing me for driving with the top down she gave up.

I walked over to Marc, the producer, who introduced me to my partner's publicist, whose name I immediately forgot. Her having her publicist here was slightly too close to diva behaviour for my liking. I know that I was slightly obsessed with my not wanting a diva, but I really couldn't bring myself to dance with another one.

"Alright Edward, lets get this over and done with as quickly as possible and get back to civilisation, or the pub. Your partner is sitting on that bank over there, go and meet her!" Marc instructed me, pushing me a bit in the process.

"Is she a diva?" I whispered at him so the publicist couldn't hear me.

"Do you honestly think that a diva would live somewhere like this? The nearest hairdresser is probably twenty miles away. Anyway, I want you in the next series so I wouldn't do that to you," Marc whispered back. "Go on, put yourself out of your misery and introduce yourself."

I strode over, trying to appear less nervous than I actually was. What was I letting myself in for?

My partner was bent over a notebook scribbling furiously. I cleared my throat to alert her to my presence. Without stopping she shoved a handwritten laminated at me.

"To whomever I have handed this note to (or in your general direction),

It may have escaped your attention that I am hard at work. Inspiration has hit and it can be rare and should never be interrupted. Please give me a moment to write all my thoughts down and then, if you are still here, you can have my undivided attention (probably).

Yours,

Isabella Swan"

Isabella Swan? As in _the_ Isabella Swan, the author that Alice and Rosalie wouldn't stop talking about? The one whose book they insisted wasn't chick lit and forced me to read? The author of _The Stones_? Wow. Someone up there must have like me.

However, a good author is not automatically a nice person or a good dancer. What is she like? Is she attractive? Unfortunately her long brown hair with auburn highlights formed a curtain around her face. Her hair looked nice though, I thought, but then what did I know about what good hair looks like? She was wearing what looked like tweed trousers. Alice and Rosalie would have had a heart attack if I told them that Isabella Swan wears tweed. Actually, the tweed went well with the beautiful, loose fitting, muted floral blouse. Everything about her was understated. In my world, women always wore tight, revealing clothing. It was refreshing to see a woman who was comfortable enough in herself not to have to flaunt her body.

She paused for the briefest of moments, tucked her hair behind her ear, and sucked on the end of her pen. Then, in less than two seconds she was busily writing away again. However, this time I was able to see her face and she was pretty, very pretty. She was a true English rose: porcelain skin, dark hair, rose coloured lips. I had a bad feeling that I was about to have a crush on my dance partner. That was not good, on _Strictly_ we (hopefully) had to spend weeks training. It was one-on-one and we had to pretend to be in love or lust for one another. If we got together and it didn't work out it would have been very awkward. I had been rudely staring at Isabella for a few minutes now so I tore my attention away from her and pretended to find one of the stones fascinating.

I should have been annoyed at how long she took to write down her inspiration. I was pretty sure that the camera crew were already fed up, but I wasn't. After a while I realised I'd been staring at a stone for so long that I looked like an idiot. I snuck a glance at Isabella. She was so beautiful. Suddenly she put down her pen, closed her notebook and stood up.

She looked at me, blushed, and put out her hand. "Hi, I'm Isabella Swan, but please call me Bella."

I tried opening my mouth but she was just so beautiful, particularly with that lovely blush and delicate accent, and it took me a moment before I could respond like a rational human being. "Hello, I'm Edward Cullen."

"I know, and I've got to confess you're my favourite dancer," she whispered and blushed even more. "I can't believe I just said that! You must get that all the time. How embarrassing…"

"I know who you are too, you're my favourite author," I whispered back, shielding my mouth from the cameras. Bella giggled and blushed again. She had a beautiful laugh.

"If this is the time for confessions I'd better confess that I am a rubbish dancer. Ask the pub landlord if you want, he has a hilarious anecdote about me tripping over my own feet whilst dancing. I can't remember anything about it but he remembers it in extraordinary detail and would be more than happy to regale it to you."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Well let's test that out shall we?" I said, taking my iPhone out of my pocket and flicking through the songs. Like a typical dancer I had my music organised into different dances. I flicked the through the Waltz section. There were so many to choose from. I had to decide whether or not choosing an all out love song would that scare her.

"What?" Bella asked, looking slightly scared.

"Let's find out how good a dancer you really are. Look into my eyes and trust me. We're going to do a waltz." I quickly taught her the basic box step. "You'll pick it up soon enough, just follow my lead." I grabbed hold of her waist and under her arm, putting her hands on my waist and arm. I didn't hold her particularly close, but even just holding her felt right, comfortable yet sexy; wonderfully different from other women I'd danced with.

I pressed play on my iPhone and _Moon River _came on. I began to slowly waltz with Bella, looking in her eyes the whole time. Waltz is the dance of love and I'd never found it so easy to look into someone's eyes with love before. It was just so easy I barely had to try. I forgot I was standing in the middle of a field full of stones and just stared into her eyes as I slowly whirled her around. Thankfully, there were no rabbit holes or we could have sprained our ankles and been out of the competition before it even began.

The song unfortunately came to end and I had to remove my hands from Bella, "See, you can dance, that was perfect and it was your first try. You just haven't had a good enough dance partner before."

Bella looked into my eyes and replied, "Now I do."

I appreciated that compliment so much, I knew I was an excellent dancer but a single compliment on my skill from Bella was better than winning a competition. "I think that with a bit of training we may be able to pull this off, as long as you trust yourself and me. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Bella whispered.

"Good. Now then, why don't you show me round Avebury?"

Bella spent the next hour or so showing me around Avebury, telling me how it was built, destroyed, and rebuilt, alongside some of the grislier stories about the stones. When she showed me the devil's chair I was very tempted to sit on it and test out its supposed power of letting you get away with whatever bad thing you do next by kissing her, but I didn't quite have the guts and the cameras were still rolling.

After the film crew had enough footage for the show, they were bored and ready to leave. "You coming Edward?" Tom asked me.

I took one look at the ever so slightly sad look on Bella's face and made my mind up, "No, I want to get to know my partner as well as possible before rehearsal and we're a bit pressed for time, so I'll stay a bit longer."

Bella's publicist stepped forward as well. "Will you need me anymore Bella? Do you mind if I get back to London?" she asked.

"I'll be fine. Thanks, Angela," replied Bella.

"Are you sure you're okay with me leaving you alone with Edward?" Angela added, winking at Bella as she did so. Why on earth would she wink?

Bella blushed. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Angela," Bella repeated in a slightly strained voice, "Goodbye."

Angela walked away and we were left alone.

Bella seemed keen for a pint and led us towards the pub I'd noticed earlier in the centre of the stone circle. Unlike the other girls I knew, and indeed had ever met, Bella went for a pint of real ale. Some men might think that unfeminine and unattractive, but seeing her with a pint seemed somehow right. It showed how low maintenance she seemed to be and how comfortable in herself she is.

We sat outside with our pints, and for the record, I had a lovely beer and enjoyed the sunshine.

"What is your biggest concern about _Strictly_?" I asked Bella.

"Well, besides falling on my arse on live TV, which is quite likely to happen, it would be timing, my rhythm isn't great." She shrugged by way of apology.

"In that case let's work on that now." I drummed out a simple rhythm on the table and got Bella to repeat it. I kept going, making it gradually more and more difficult. Bella occasionally made a mistake but we managed to laugh it off. She improved a lot and she did much better than I had hoped.

"Thanks for giving me the chance to get to know you Bella. Getting to know someone and having chemistry makes dancing so much easier, and it's something I've entirely lacked with my last few _Strictly_ partners."

"I'm really enjoying getting to know you, too. You've finished your pint, would you like another?" Bella offered.

"I would love one but I wouldn't be able to drive home if I did."

"In that case I have a solution for you. Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" Realising how that sounded she blushed scarlet. "In my spare bedroom," she quickly added.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, and I'll cook dinner. It'll give me a good excuse to try out a new recipe!"

"Well in that case yes, I'll have a top up," I said handing her my empty glass. How did I get so lucky? I'd got an intelligent, funny and gorgeous dance partner and I was spending the night with her. If only I was sharing her bed and not in another room…

After we'd finished our second pints I went in for a couple of extras.

"I know you!" someone shouted at me from across the bar, startling me. He didn't look like the usual fan of _Strictly_, he looked like a biker. "Sorry, that was rude. I'm Pete, the landlord here. And you, unless I'm mistaken, are the young man charged with teaching our Bells how to dance."

"Yes I am."

"Well good luck 'cause you're gonna need it!"

"She can actually dance rather well."

"That I would love to see."

To me that sounded like a challenge. "In that case let me get her and demonstrate her true abilities to you. You'll need to clear a dance floor." I walked outside and found Bella.

"Will you come inside with me for a moment?" I asked and walked her to the middle of the improvised dance floor. She looked confused at all the hastily pushed back tables and chairs, but I didn't say anything, instead I walked to the jukebox. I found _Shining Light_ by _Ash_ and walked back over to Bella. I held her as I had before and started doing a Viennese Waltz this time.

Bella looked a bit scared, so I tried to reassure her. "The studio audience on Saturday nights will be bigger than this, and you need to get used to an audience. We're going to do the Viennese Waltz, which is a faster version of the Waltz we did earlier. If we were on the show we would be looking away from each other, but I think it'll help you learn if we look each other in the eye. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think you could do it. Trust me and show Pete where he can shove his anecdote."

Bella laughed and hesitantly nodded so I started slowly at first to reacquaint her with the steps before gradually speeding up. Bella looked in my eyes the whole time and I almost got lost and forgot that I was dancing not on a dance floor but in a pub, and there were a few near collisions as a result. Once again, the music finished too early for my liking, but thankfully we hadn't hit anything and Bella hadn't fallen over.

I grinned at her as she turned to Pete and said, "Stick that in your pipe and smoke it." Before turning to me. "I'm getting a bit peckish, are you? I think its time to start cooking."

I knew that I was beginning falling in love with this woman.

We chatted about nothing in particular as we walked to Bella's cottage. I'd never been inside a cottage before, and frankly the idea of living in a house that old seemed a bit odd to me, but Bella seemed really proud of it.

"Its 316 years old," she told me with a big smile plastered over her face, "and the door is original! Sorry, as you may have guessed from my books I'm a bit of a history geek, and I just love old things."

"You should write a history of this house," I suggested.

"In theory it is a great idea, however it would be too close to the plot of _The Stones_."

"True."

"However, it's a good idea about basing a plot on a house. One day I'll have to write that story." I grinned at the compliment Bella had just given me.

Inside, the house had been painted in neutral, warm colours with pitch black beams. She had balanced the old with the new perfectly. The waxed pine and patchwork look may not be my style, but it fits Bella and this house to a T.

She led me into a big, farmhouse style kitchen that had its own Aga. She got food out of the fridge and set it down on the large, old pine table in the middle.

"How does lamb steak with damson chutney sound?" she asked me.

"Mouth-watering," I replied honestly.

"Can you open a bottle of red wine, please? Choose whichever one you want," Bella said and pointed towards a well stocked wine rack.

As I tried to decide which wine would best suit the meal, Bella set about chopping and sautéing at a frenzied pace. It smelled absolutely delicious.

Once I had finally decided what wine to have and opened it, Bella asked me to pour her a glass. "I've never been patient enough to allow wine to breathe, and besides, my Mum always taught me that the chef deserves a glass of wine whilst they cook," Bella giggled.

I excused myself for a moment and heard music start whilst I was out of the room. I came back to see Bella dancing to _Red Dress_ by _The Sugababes_ as she sautéed. She had her back to me and apparently had no idea that I was there. She did a twirl and spotted me, immediately pausing and blushing, embarrassed.

"You weren't meant to see that," she mumbled, "I was going to stop when I heard you walk down the stairs."

"May I have this dance?" I asked, holding my hand out to her.

"The food will burn," she replied simply. I walked over to the Aga and moved the pots off the hob.

"It won't burn now, so may I please have this dance? Call it practice if you want to."

She took my hand and I pulled her tight against me and I started dancing very close to Bella, occasionally twirling and dipping her. I'd never found dancing this sexy; I hoped she wouldn't notice my raging erection. When the song finished I was holding Bella tightly and it took all my willpower not to lean in the short distance and kiss her. I came to my senses, released her and took a step back.

"You are a really good dancer, Bella," I told her and put the pans back on the Aga. She stood frozen on the spot still looking a bit dumbfounded; I hoped that was because she found it as much of a turn on as I did. "This food smells great, I'm starving," I said in an attempt to help her snap out of it. Thankfully it had that effect.

"It should be ready in about five minutes," she said.

I helped her as much as I could by doing some washing up. As I did so, my phone rang.

"Hello, Edward speaking."

"Edward! It's Tanya, who is your new partner?" Tanya, my professional partner of seven years asked. We got on well but she loved to gossip and I hated being the subject of it.

"Hi Tanya, my new partner is Bella Swan." I looked over at Bella apologetically.

"Who?"

"Isabella Swan, the author, you must have heard Rosalie and Alice talking about her book, _The Stones_, they were raving about it to anyone who would listen last series."

"That rings vague bells; anyway, what is she like? Another diva?"

"She is the opposite of a diva and is lovely. I'm still with her actually." I glanced over at Bella while I said this. She seemed to be studiously attempting not listen, although she blushed slightly at the compliment.

"Is the film crew still with you as well? Has it taken them that long to get enough good footage?"

"No, the film crew isn't here anymore. I've stayed longer to get to know Bella. Look, we're about to have dinner, I've got to go."

"No one has dinner with their new partners; no one spends that long getting to know them. What's going on Eddie? Do you fancy her?"

"I'm hanging up now Tanya, see you tomorrow."

"No! Don't go – I want the gossip!"

As I hung up, Bella began to plate the food and I felt guilty about not paying attention to her.

"This looks delicious, I think you may be an excellent cook," I commented.

"I think you should withhold judgement until you actually taste it," Bella laughed, placing a plate in front of me.

I took her advice and cut into the lamb, and brie oozed out of it. I took a bite and tasted heaven. "This tastes even better than it smells and looks. Wow. Thank you so much."

"No, thank you, I've wanted to try this for weeks but cooking this for just me seemed like too much effort."

Before I had a chance to take another bite my phone rang again, I glanced down and looked at the caller ID and was entirely unsurprised to see who was calling, "Sorry, it's my sister, I had better take this." I pressed the answer button and immediately regretted it.

"EDWARD!" Screeched through my phone and I was temporarily deafened. I had to hold the phone away from my ear as I turned the volume down and Bella laughed at me.

"Alice, is it important? I'm in the middle of dinner at the moment."

"I know! Tanya called. You're having dinner with ISABELLA SWAN! OH. MY. GOD! I'm so jealous!"

Despite having turned the volume down Bella heard every word and went bright red at the sound of her name.

"Alice, Bella can hear everything you're saying and you're embarrassing her, can I call you back?"

"Bella? You get to call her Bella!" I groaned. "Can you pass the phone to Bella? Can I call her that?"

"What?"

"I want to speak to my favourite author ever."

"I think you may come across like a fangirl. You'll meet her tomorrow at the briefing. Can what you want to tell her wait till then?"

"You sound different. Your voice sounds softer. Do you love her? You have to fall in love with her – I want her as my sister!"

"I'm hanging up now. And then I'm turning my phone off. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Edward and Bella,

Sitting in a tree,

K-I-S-S-"

I cut her off before she could complete the playground rhyme and get anymore embarrassing and swiftly turned my phone off. I just hoped that Bella hadn't heard that last bit.

"Sorry about that, my sister is a bit, um, over-enthusiastic."

"Isn't your sister another one of the professionals on _Strictly_?"

"Yep, Alice Whitlock is, sometimes unfortunately, my sister."

"Why am I meeting her tomorrow? Not that I don't want to," Bella asked.

"Did Marc not tell you? Tomorrow is the briefing for the start of _Strictly_. We'll meet all the couples, find out what dance we'll be doing, etc. It is quite dull I'm afraid. But there is a piss-up tomorrow night, which is a good way of bonding."

"Oh."

We ate the delicious, although, thanks to Alice, slightly cool food, in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Just being in her presence was wonderful.

After a while I decided to break the silence, "Fancy a game of twenty questions?"

"Isn't that a bit childish?"

"Not at all, getting to know each other well will help with our dancing."

"Okay then."

"I'll go first if you don't mind. Why do you live in Avebury? Is it because of _The Stones_?"

"Other way around actually. _The Stones_ was inspired by Avebury. I moved to Avebury because I found that I worked best in the quietness of the countryside. It inspires me. I wanted somewhere in Wiltshire because I like all the geography, the relative proximity to London and the Iron Age history. I spent a good six months looking for somewhere to live and then I found this cottage. It was the perfect place for me. Have you ever seen something and known immediately that it is right for you and that you have to have it? You see something and then suddenly don't know how you lived without it?" Before today I would've thought she was talking nonsense, but now that I'd met Bella, I understood exactly what she meant. "It was like love at first sight with this place. I used my advance for _A Simple Ring_ as a deposit and bought the place. I find the whole area very inspiring. There is so much Iron Age history around here and for me, it feels almost spiritual. Just as Megan in _The Stones_ feels drawn to Avebury like her ancestors were, so do I. Except that I can't find a familial link to Avebury. And believe me, I've looked."

"Perhaps your ancestors, like Megan's, built Avebury."

Bella laughed. "You never know. What about you, where do you live?"

"I live in London. I love cities, the countryside is beautiful, but I need a bustling metropolis. Also, London is where _Strictly_ is filmed and Tanya lives there, you can't practice with your professional partner if you don't live close to each other. I'm afraid that my reasons for living where I do are nowhere near as romantic as yours are. Do you want to choose the next question?"

"Okay. How did you get into dancing? And how did you get a job on _Strictly_?"

"My Mum got me into dancing, she used to be professional before she had Alice and I and so we weren't given much choice. I was Alice's dance partner through my teens, until she met Jasper and they went professional. Then I met Tanya at my university's ballroom dancing club and she wanted to be my dance partner, then after university we continued and eventually went professional. Alice and Jasper got a job on _Strictly_ and when she heard they wanted more dancers, she recommended us and we got the job."

"At what point did you decide you wanted to be a dancer?"

"I'm not sure I ever really did decide - it just kind of happened really."

"What did you want to do?"

"I quite like music; it's what I did at university, so I guess a musician."

"What kind of instrument do you play?"

"The piano."

"Nice." Bella was trying, and failing, to hide a smile when she said that. I'd love to know what she was thinking but I didn't want to embarrass her, so I dropped the subject.

"So, I'll turn the question on its head, why did you decide to become an author?"

"I studied English and Creative Writing at university and in the middle of my second year I was in an antique shop when I saw the most beautiful ring. Just like with my cottage, I had to have it, so I decided to buy it, it was only £80 but I still had to sacrifice some nights out and a new dress for the end of year ball to be able to buy it. I started thinking about what it's history might be, and the idea for _A Simple Ring_ just popped into my head. So I spent a while acquainting myself with the characters and their experiences and then I wrote it, and rewrote it, and rewrote it again. I was able to submit it as my dissertation piece and got 87%; I redrafted it according to their recommendations and then submitted it to a few publishers. The tenth publisher took it on. I may have happened upon it but I love being an author. I was never brave enough to admit to myself that I wanted to be an author but I really did."

"Did you say you bought the ring? You actually have the ring that you based the book around?"

"Um hmm."

"Can I see it?" Alice will be so jealous! "Sorry, that sounded really rude."

"No, it's fine, I'll just go get it."

Bella ran upstairs and reappeared a few minutes later carrying a small, oval ring box. She handed it to me and I opened it up to reveal a thin gold ring with two miniscule diamonds and a topaz in the centre. The three stones went diagonally across the band and were supported on either side by a misshapen, swirly triangle. It was wonderfully Art Nouveau and exactly as Bella had described it in the book.

"It is a beautiful ring, but it's so tiny. Are anyone's fingers that small?" I asked, amazed that the ring could fit inside a five pence piece.

Bella took the ring from me and replied, "Mine are, it fits me perfectly." As she slipped it onto her right hand ring finger.

"Don't engagement rings go on the ring finger of the left hand?" I asked her.

"Yes, but I'm not engaged."

"Anyone ever offered?" I quipped.

"Only after they've tasted my Victoria sponge cake, and I'm not convinced they were seriously proposing," Bella replied, laughing.

"Anyone even on the horizon?" I pressed, needing to know if she was single.

"Nope. There hasn't been anyone for years; Avebury doesn't have the greatest dating opportunities," she admitted. "You?"

"No, I've been waiting for the right woman to come along."

"I hope you find her soon."

"I may have already met her," I replied cryptically, looking into Bella's eyes as she blushed in response. I knew I shouldn't tease her, and I definitely shouldn't come onto her until we finished _Strictly_, but I couldn't help it. Particularly if it made her blush so beautifully.

"Anyway, getting back to you being an author, you're so lucky to get to live out your dream," I said changing the topic.

"So many people are jealous of your job as well."

"I know, but I never actively chose my career."

"Perhaps you should."

"Perhaps I should, indeed."

A silence followed when we both realised just how deep that conversation was. I'd only known her for a few hours and yet it was like she was looking directly into my soul. I was confiding things to her that I had never told anyone.

I quickly moved the conversation on. "What is your new book about?"

"It's about a city boy who decides he has had enough of the city and moves to the countryside to help run his grandfather's farm. Essentially it is me making the point that perhaps there is more to life than cities and technology, and that there is a lot we can learn from our elders. That's the aim anyway."

"Sounds good, very different from your other novels, but good."

"Why is it very different from my other novels?" Bella asked

"It's about men."

"Excuse me! In _A Simple Ring_ there were lots of male characters."

"Yeah, but it was about love."

"No, it was about people's lives. Love was predominant, but then it is in so many people's lives. Anyway, _The Stones_ was about love for a place, not romantic love."

"Still chick lit," Bella shot me a venomous glance and I quickly back-pedalled, "but really, really good chick lit."

"How dare you! _A Simple Ring_ may have been considered chick lit at a push, but the ring and the romance was just a device to explore several generations of one family. I won the Man Booker prize for _The Stones_! How many chick lit books with the Man Booker?"

"Sorry, it was a joke. I didn't realise it would upset you so much."

"I'm sorry if you think I'm going overboard, but I face this accusation everyday. This is precisely why I deliberately chose to write a novel without any female main characters. I have loads of great ideas for novels, but if they feature women as the main characters and love as a theme they've been shelved. Perhaps I should write an Andy McNab style book and people would shut up," Bella fumed.

"I'm an idiot who clearly doesn't know what he's talking about. I may have called it chick lit, but you are my favourite author, honestly. You are a "chick lit" author who appeals to macho, straight men like me. You are no Katie Fforde."

"I'd hope not, although she has sold lots of books. Refill?" she asked holding up the bottle of wine. I hoped she had forgiven me. I'd hate to have a stupid, thoughtless comment that I had made to ruin our burgeoning friendship.

"Why not?" I said holding out my glass and hoping that wine could heal everything. "By the way, when does your new book come out?"

"In three months time."

"I can't wait; I'll be first in the queue to get one. In fact, I'll be the first in the queue for a signed copy."

"Why queue when you know the author? For that comment I'll give you the very first copy of _Back to Basics_. Not even the reviewers have this yet, just don't tell my publishers!" Bella jumped off the sofa and disappeared upstairs.

She reappeared a few minutes later and solemnly held out the book in the palms of her hands. I went to take it and she pulled it just out of reach, "Whoa boy! Were you ever a Scout?"

"No."

"OK, so no Scout promises then. What is your most prized possession?"

I thought about this for a moment because I'd never really had to think about it. "That would be either my piano or my car."

"In that case put your hand on your heart repeat after me, 'I, Edward Cullen,'"

"'I, Edward Cullen,'" I quoted.

"Do solemnly swear on the continued existence of my car and piano."

"'Do solemnly swear on the continued existence of my car and piano.'"

"That I will not let anyone know that I own the first ever copy of _Back to Basics_. I will not let anyone know that I have so much as read a manuscript. And that includes Alice and Rosalie."

"'That I will not let anyone know that I own the first ever copy of _Back to Basics_. I will not let anyone know that I have so much as read a manuscript. And that includes Alice and Rosalie.'"

"If I break this promise, Bella Swan is allowed to destroy both my piano and my car."

"'If I break this promise, Bella Swan is allowed to destroy both my piano and my car,'" I gulped as I said the last bit, I didn't want anything to hurt either my car or my piano.

After I had agreed, Bella held out the book for me to take.

"Thank you." I took it from her, flipped through it and added cheekily. "I couldn't get this signed could I?"

She laughed, took it back, picked up a fountain pen and opened the book up to the first page. She sucked the pen while she thought, and how I wished I was that pen! I saw her eyes glint as she decided what to write. She eagerly began to write and then handed it back to me.

I opened it up and read

"Dearest Edward,

I hope this meets your standards,

Yours, Chick Lit author X

P.S. Let anyone know you have this and I will enjoy destroying your car and your piano."

_I think I'm in love with this woman_. I was not being as facetious as I should have been. Alice was right (now that's something I don't say often!) I really was falling for her.

We spent hours talking and getting to know each other. I was falling for her, and fast. Bella was gorgeous, intelligent, funny, a good cook and she made me feel relaxed. I'd never felt so attracted to someone in my life. However, I didn't want to try something and for us to end up being awkward together. If that happened we'd get kicked out in the first few weeks and I certainly didn't want that to happen. So, I ignored my feelings and didn't kiss her.

Instead I made do with, "Thank you so much, I will treasure this forever." Bella honoured me with a blush in response.

Time passed really quickly and I was shocked to see the time.

"Is that the time? Its three a.m.!"

"Wow, time really is relative," Bella quipped.

"We've got to be at the briefing at noon so we should probably go to bed."

"I suppose we should. I'll get the spare room set up. I'm afraid it is a spare bedroom-cum-study so you'll be surrounded by my notebooks and drafts of long abandoned novels. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, thanks so much for letting me stay." Wow, drafts of novels that possibly no one else has ever read. I was itching to read them, but out of politeness I really needed to resist.

"No, thank you for such an entertaining evening. I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

"Me neither, I think we'll make a great team on _Strictly_."

"I hope so."

I decided to brave a hug. I took her into my arms, pulled her chin up so she looked into my eyes and replied, "I know so," before giving her a kiss on the forehead, it felt very intimate and practiced, like I'd been kissing her forehead for years. It was a bit forward of me, but nowhere near as forward as what I really wanted to do.

Bella hugged me back and then pulled away, "So what time do we have to leave tomorrow?"

"Probably nine a.m."

"Ugh!" Bella groaned, "I don't cope well without my eight hours, and I certainly need my beauty sleep. I had better get as much as I can. Sleep well."

"You too, night night."

I got ready for bed and climbed in. The room and the bed was Bella-scented and it was wonderful. It took me a while to drift off and I spent the time imagining Bella writing _The Stones_ in this very room and it brought a big smile to my face.

I couldn't believe how lucky I had gotten with a dance partner, I'd finally been paired with someone who was funny, gorgeous, intelligent and can dance. Best of all, we get on really well. In the past I'd almost been grateful to have been kicked off the show, but I was dreading the prospect of that happening this time.

Just before I nodded off, I swore I heard Bella say "Edward! Get that fake tan away from me!" but I could've imagined it.

A/N

Lamb steak with damson chutney: The recipe is here -./food/recipes/database/lambsteakwithdamsonc__ I've never made it because I'm veggie, but it sounds nice!

The ring is actually my engagement ring that I found in an antiques shop about five miles from Avebury for about £80. It really is Art Nouveau.

Glossary of British terms, etc.

87%: To get a first (best degree you can get) you need to get 70%. Anything above 80% is meant to mean publishable. Basically Bella got a fantastically high score, higher than a 4.0 GPA!

Aga: A traditional style cooker. .uk/

Andy McNab: Ex-soldier and author of 20 military novels.

Chick lit: Light weight literature that typically appeals to women.

Hob: A burner on a stove.

_It Takes Two_: A magazine programme that accompanies _Strictly_, analyses and gossips about the show. Airs every week night that _Strictly_ is on.

Peckish: Hungry

Katie Fforde: a romantic novelist. Author of 16 books.

Man Booker Prize: A very well respected literature prize.

Piss-up: A group of people getting drunk.


	3. The Briefing

A/N:

Sorry it is a bit later than usual. I was really busy and then fell ill. I've now finished Uni for the time being and will hopefully be better soon so the next update will (fingers crossed) be next week.

Contains some British and Australian slang terms and some Sanskrit. There is a glossary at the bottom to help.

BPOV

The light peeped through my thin curtains and began to rouse me. Footsteps on the stairs awoke me further. _Who is climbing my stairs?_

_Is that Edward Cullen? Did yesterday really happen? Am I really Edward Cullen's dance partner on _Strictly_? _

The person who footsteps I heard gently knocked on my bedroom door. "Bella, I made you breakfast in bed, can I bring it in?" asked Edward.

I looked down to check that I was clothed and answered shyly, "Yes."

The door creaked open and a bronze haired Greek god slowly walked through the door carrying a tray with two glasses of fruit juice and toast on it. _How did I get so lucky?_

"Morning," Edward said, smiling. "It's 7.30 a.m. now and we need to leave before nine. I hope that gives you long enough but I guessed you needed the sleep. I thought that after the beautiful dinner you made for us last night that I owed you breakfast in bed. Hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all, it's very kind of you. I see you've brought enough for both of us, want to join me?" I asked even though I felt a bit awkward. We got on like a house on fire the previous night but now he was in my bedroom and neither of us knew what to do. I nervously made room for Edward and patted the bed and he sat down. Edward Cullen was sitting in my bed. _How did that happen?_

We silently started eating, neither of us sure what to say.

"So, remind me, what are we doing today?" I asked brightly.

"We've got to be at BBC Television centre for noon and I need to pop home and get changed and showered first. Do you want to take your own car or do you want a lift? I'm happy to drop you at your hotel."

I thought about my lovely 1950s light blue Morris Minor, but decided that my baby would probably be safer in Avebury than London. I would be devastated if anything happened to my baby after all the work I'd had done to her.

"I guess there won't be much point in me having my car in central London. Particularly not when we'll be busy practising, and parking will cost a fortune, and the train is much quicker, so I think I'd like a lift if that's okay," I replied.

"That is fine, all the more opportunity to get to know you."

We continued to eat breakfast in silence. I sat there awkwardly trying to think of what we could talk about. Finally I thought of something that I actually needed to know. "So I need to know what to pack. What do I need for dance training and other _Strictly _stuff? How long before I'll be able to get back here?"

"Well, you'll need lots of exercising clothes that allow freedom of movement for the dance training, and you'll need some formal dresses, the _Strictly_ professionals and celebrities tend to like dressing up and going out together." I groaned, more dressing up. I only had one cocktail dress and that was my outfit for the launch party of _The Stones_, three years ago. Edward continued, "Don't know when you'll next be home, you'll get one and a half days off a week, so you could come home then. Besides that you can come home if we're eliminated. Hopefully that won't happen at all!"

"So, I should just pack my entire wardrobe then?"

"Yep."

I finished my toast and jumped out of bed, and tried to reach the suitcase above my wardrobe. I wasn't quite tall enough and was just about to get a chair when Edward jumped off the bed and reached up and got it down for me. "Here," he said, handing me the suitcase.

"Thanks," I said and blushed.

"Umm, I suppose I had better leave you to pack. I'll be downstairs reading my signed copy of _Back to Basics_." Edward grinned and left the room. How much longer was it going to be awkward for? We were so in sync yesterday. I looked at my pyjamas and realised that, whilst it covered me up, the camisole top was a satin and lace La Senza creation that was slightly on the skimpy side. As I got some clothes down from the top shelf of my wardrobe I noticed that the stretching made my top reveal even more of breasts. I blushed at the thought of the show I had just inadvertently given Edward, no wonder he had left so abruptly. Why did my mother insist on getting me sexy nightwear "Just in case!" every Christmas, and why did I never get round to buying any myself? Having Edward see me like this was plain embarrassing, what must he have thought of me?

I pushed those thoughts aside as I had a quick shower and then got dressed in a pair of straight legged skinny jeans, Edwardian style blouse and accessorised with some pearls. I quickly dried and brushed my hair and finally looked presentable. Next I opened up the suitcase and started shoving clothes in at random, I was grateful that I found running and yoga helped me to write better and as such I had quite a lot of workout clothes. I carefully put my Roland Mouret Galaxy dress on the top of the suitcase and shut it.

I wished I had a more modern dress for the introductory party rather than the Galaxy dress, but it cost an arm and a leg when I brought it (under duress) a few years ago for the launch party, and was highly sought after then. It would have to do until I had time to go shopping. I hate shopping and did most of it online, which explained my not particularly exciting clothing choices.

I went into the bathroom, washed and put on some mascara and lip balm. That would have to do, I didn't have any other make-up.

I walked downstairs, dragging my surprisingly heavy suitcase behind me. I stuck my head around the door to the living room and saw Edward sat on my sofa reading _Back to Basics_. He looked quite absorbed. I gave him a few more minutes as I emptied the fridge of perishables and turned off the gas and as many electronic appliances as possible.

I walked into the living room again. "You ready to go?" I asked Edward.

He looked up, surprised. "You're ready already?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes."

"It's only been forty minutes."

"Why would I need more time?"

"Um, I've never seen a woman get ready to leave the house in under an hour, much less pack for a long trip."

"Well, you have now. Come on," I said to a still astonished Edward. Who were these women he knew that took so long to get ready? Who had that much time to waste? "How is the book, by the way?"

"It's great, your best yet I'd say. In fact I'm disappointed that I can't spend the rest of the day on your sofa reading it. But alas, we have work to do. Let's go."

Edward put my heavy suitcase into the boot of his car with ease and opened up the passenger door. _Did he expect me to drive his car?_ He looked at me like I was crazy and I realised that he was being chivalrous. I wasn't used to this kind of behaviour and didn't really know how to react. Edward picked up on my confusion.

"Has no one opened a car door for you before?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"Well you had better get used to it and more besides; my mum raised me to be a gentleman and would be disgusted if I didn't behave like one."

Edward plugged his iPhone into the car stereo and _Yellow Submarine_ rang out around the car. "I love sixties music," he admitted as he pulled away from my cottage. I looked over my shoulder wistfully, I'd miss that place.

"We didn't finish off our twenty questions last night," I commented.

"Indeed, I think we only got to question fourteen."

"So, can I start?"

"Please, be my guest."

"What do your parents do for a living?"

"My mum runs a ballroom dance studio, after she stopped being a professional dancer she couldn't bear to part from the dancing world completely so she set up a studio. My dad is an oncologist," Edward answered, "What about your parents?"

"Well, my dad is the superintendant of a small police station in the Lake District." I paused and took a deep breath before I revealed my pum's somewhat embarrassing job. "And my mum owns and runs a Scouting themed gay bar in Brighton."

To his credit Edward managed to cover his surprise somewhat. "A Scouting themed gay bar?" he asked.

"Yep. Scouting – camping - camp, get it? The bar staff wear tight vintage style Scouts and Guide uniforms replete with badges that I really hope that Scouts and Guides can't earn. I worked there in my Uni summer holidays and I can tell you that the uniform is horrific. "

"What kinds of badges can the bar staff earn?"

"You really don't want to know."

"Oh, I think I do."

I groaned and blushed. "The most popular badge among the male staff is a blow job one."

Edward burst out laughing. "Your mum sounds hilarious. Can we go to the bar soon, please?"

My only response was to sink in my seat slightly.

"You're not the only one with embarrassing parents; my mum once almost got into a punch up with the judges in an amateur ballroom dancing competition that Alice and I were in. She felt that we were discriminated against during judging. Dad had to drag her away." It was a sweet attempt by him to make me feel better, but I don't think his mum almost punching someone was quite on the same level as my mum running a Scouting themed gay bar.

We were quiet for a moment until _God Only Knows _by _The Beach Boys_ came on and I found myself singing along.

"I may not always love you,"

However before I could be embarrassed Edward joined in with the next line and we sang together, "But as long as there are stars above you, you never need to doubt it, I'll make you so sure about it."

We spent the rest of the drive singing along to classic sixties songs. I'm not a good singer so I should have been blushing scarlet the entire time, but Edward relaxed me and it wasn't embarrassing at all.

All too soon Edward pulled up in front of the K West Hotel. I went to open the door but Edward's hand stopped me. "What do you think you're doing Ms. Swan?" Edward asked me.

"Opening the door…" I replied, confused.

"Please allow me to be a gentleman and open your door for you."

I sat back and waited until Edward had got my suitcase out of the boot, opened the door and held his hand out for me. "Ms Swan…"

"Thank you so much for the lift, Mr Cullen."

"My pleasure, Ms Swan. I would offer to pick you up and take you to the briefing but Television Centre is just around the corner and I think people would read into my taking you…" - Us turning up together would indeed suggest that we were inseparable and most unfortunately that is not true - "So, if you don't mind I'll see you in the briefing. Go to reception and they'll show you where it is."

"Thank you."

"Till later Ms. Swan," Edward said gallantly, taking my hand and kissing it, making me blush.

"Au revior, Mr Cullen."

Edward got into his car. "Bye Bella."

"Bye Edward."

And with that he drove off and I went to check in.

Once in my room I unpacked quickly and appraised myself in the mirror. I was nothing special but had nothing to improve that and only half an hour until I had to be at Television centre, so there was no time to get a haircut or do anything. I settled for brushing my hair.

Rather that waste time in my hotel room I went outside and took a circuitous route to Television centre. London is so busy; I really didn't understand how Edward could live here as there is no space to think. I was fairly certain that I wasn't going to get much writing done while on _Strictly_, partly due to not having enough time but mainly because I simply wouldn't be able to think.

It was nearing noon so I walked into Television Centre. I made it through security, gave my name to reception and was directed to a large neutral room. I took a deep breath, pushed open the door and walked in.

Edward hadn't turned up yet, but I wasn't surprised by that. I don't like not knowing anyone and having to introduce myself to groups of people who know each other well. I got over most of my shyness at university but this part had remained. At the other end of the stood the group of professionals, and two of the girls I recognised as Alice and Rosalie, began to whisper to each other when they noticed me. In the corner I spotted some coffee and so I quickly headed over to it.

As I poured a cup of coffee someone came over and helped themselves to the biscuits. I turned to them and smiled meekly. Standing next to me was a portly middle aged man who looked like he enjoyed the finer things in life.

"Hello my dear, you must be the replacement!" he boomed and my face fell.

"Yes, I suppose I am." _Can the ground swallow me up now?_

"I suppose you know who I am, but who are you?"

"Bella," I said hastily. "But I'm afraid I don't know who you are," I admitted.

"Really? You can't pay much attention to politics then. I'm Sir Michael Newton, the politician," he said, seeming affronted. "What do you do outside of _Strictly_?"

"I'm an author - Isabella Swan."

"Oh, never heard of you. Don't suppose you've written anything good then."

The nerve of this man! "My second novel, _The Stones_, won the Man Booker prize."

He had clearly decided that I was dull as he quickly moved the conversation back to himself. "I was a Tory MP until the bastards kicked me out, so now I'm founding my own party called Trust. I want to have completely transparent government, minimal expenses and Proportional Representation. I want to hit the pompous twats hard."

I really wanted to say "pot, kettle, black" to him seeing as he was wearing what looked like an eccentric tweed Saville Row suit, smelled of cigars and arrogantly assumed I'd know who he was, but I bit my tongue. Instead I responded, "Now your name rings bells, didn't you rebel a few too many times and they kicked you out of the party?"

"I did indeed. I voted in favour of the ban on hunting and against the Iraq war," he stated proudly, "I'm quite the rebel."

How could I extricate myself? This man was a self centred idiot. _I hope he gets knocked out in the first round_. I doubted he could get very far in the competition anyway. When the time came to do lifts I predicted that he may have a heart attack.

Thankfully, a tall skinny man entered the room and, like I did, made a bee line for the coffee table that neither I nor Sir Michael had moved away from.

"Needed a caffeine fix too, eh?" he asked, "Really we shouldn't be having one now, if we avoid coffee except for half an hour before a performance it acts as a legal performance enhancer. But sod that, I'm knackered. By the way, I'm Seth."

He held out his hand first to me and then to Sir Michael.

I took his hand and shook it. "Bella."

"Sir Michael Newton."

Seth's eyebrow rose ever so slightly at someone introducing themselves by title, but he was polite enough to hide it quickly.

"Are you Seth Clearwater, the marathon runner?" I asked him.

"Yes, I'm surprised you know who I am. I'm actually on this show to raise mine and the sports profile and get some more support during the London 2012 Olympics."

"I like running, and although I run purely for pleasure it is one of the few sports I actually follow."

"So, I don't recognise you, want to give me your surname and let me have an opportunity to figure it out?" Seth asked.

"You wouldn't recognise me; I studiously avoided the media until my publicist got me drunk enough to agree to be on this show." I paused. "I probably shouldn't have admitted that. Anyway, I'm Isabella Swan, but call me Bella."

"Isabella Swan, I recognise that name. Oh! My sister loves your books!"

"Yep, I'm a novelist." _Why was it another woman who had read my books? Couldn't a man read them for once?_

I looked round to see that "Sir" Michael had moved off and was now boring someone else.

We continued to chat and I was relieved that there was at least one 'celebrity' that I would be able to get on with. It was now ten past noon and neither Edward nor the producers had arrived yet.

The door swung open and Edward walked in, he tried to look relaxed but his hair was still damp, and he had clearly been hurrying. He glanced at me, smiled and then walked over to the professionals. There was clearly a divide within _Strictly _and he was very much part of it.

Suddenly the song _The Look of Love_ rang out throughout the room and Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice started Viennese waltzing around the room to it. If it hadn't been for Tanya trying to get an exceptionally embarrassed and pissed off Edward to dance as well, I would have thought it was a demonstration of what we might have to do this week, but he looked increasingly angry. I couldn't figure out why the waltz had pissed him off so much.

Edward got away from Tanya and walked over to me. He took a few deep breathes and tried to calm himself. "How are you? What's the hotel room like?" he asked.

"I'm fine and it's fine. Are you okay?" I asked him, trying not to let my disappointment show too much.

"Yeah, I'm just a bit stressed from the rush that's all," he replied, clearly distracted.

"Edward, can I introduce you to Seth, he is a marathon runner and Victoria's partner. Seth, Edward is my partner," I introduced in a way that would hopefully make Mrs Beeton proud.

But before the introductions could be completed the producers walked in.

"Sorry we're late. There is a lot to get through so let's sit down and get started," the producer called. "Can you please stop waltzing and turn off the music," he said to Emmett and Jasper who were now dancing together because Alice and Rosalie had stopped.

"Oh, _Love is in the Air_ was next on the playlist," Emmett complained whilst sitting down.

The briefing was just as tedious as I had expected, we were introduced to the production team and were given lots of information about how much practice we were expected to put in (entirely up to us), where the studios we'd be practicing in were, when rehearsals would be (Fridays), what time we'd get off (Sundays if we were lucky) and the first dance we had to do (Viennese Waltz for Edward and I).

"All right, I think that's everything you need to know for the moment," said Sam, the executive producer. "You can go for the moment; we'll see you all tonight."

I got up to go, but then heard my name being called by one of the assistant producers. "Bella and Edward, can I speak to you for a moment?"

We walked over to her and she continued, "Bella, due to you being a late addition to the show I'm afraid you've got a busy afternoon ahead of you. Everyone else has filmed their dance move for the opening credits and you two will have to do that this afternoon. In order to be able to do that Bella needs to go to the costume department to get measured up and they'll find you something to wear. Whilst they are doing that you two need to rehearse. We'd like you to do a Latin move, so, Edward, can you please choreograph a few flashy moves that will look good on the camera. We've got studio 15 to film and practice in. Edward, will you please show Bella to the costume department and then can you two go to the studio. The hair and make-up people will be in the dressing rooms in an hour and a half and we'll be starting to film in two hours. Sorry for the rush, but we need to get on with in. Sorry that was a lot to take in. Have you got it?"

I couldn't take in all of that but Edward was nodding. "Yep, costume department, studio 15, Latin moves, hair and make up in an hour and a half, and filming in two hours. Thanks, we'll see you in a couple of hours."

As Edward led me around the rabbit warren that is Television Centre I started to get really scared, it was all becoming real.

"Bella, are you okay? You seem a bit tense," Edward asked.

"I'm fine, just feeling a bit nervous," I responded.

"There is nothing to be nervous about; we can do the moves in as many takes as it takes to get right. It's not live." I wasn't relaxing so Edward stopped, stood facing me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Look at me, look into my eyes." I looked cautiously into his eyes. "You can do this. We can do this. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yep, I'll be fine."

"Good because we're on a tight schedule. Come on." He led me around a corner and then held a door open for me. Inside was the biggest wardrobe I have ever seen. The room was the size of a football pitch and full of rows and rows of hanging rails. It would be a fashionista's Mecca, however it was my hell. Edward had to give me a little push to go in.

We stepped inside and were suddenly accosted by a small rotund woman. "Edward! How are you?"

"Very good Mrs. Cope, and yourself?"

"Edward, I've told you to call me Shelly." She flirted, hitting his arm playfully and giggling. "And you my dear must be Isabella Swan; what a beautiful woman you are. You're a lucky man, Edward. Don't do whatever you did to your last partner to this one."

Edward tried defending himself. "She got glandular fever."

"The kissing disease!" Shelly replied, raising her eyebrow at me.

Edward groaned, "Yes. This is Bella Swan and we've come for you to measure her for her costumes. We need a Latin one for this afternoon if you can do that."

"Of course we can do that Edward, dear." Shelly removed a measuring tape from around her neck and continued, "Lift your arms up dear."

She started measuring every conceivable part of my body. From the measurements she deemed necessary to take I had a horrible feeling that these outfits could be very small and tight indeed.

"Alright dear, all done. I'll bring some outfits by studio 15 in about an hour. See you two then."

Once again we were in the rabbit warren and I had no idea how I would ever be able to my way around here. After five minutes of me getting increasingly stressed at the prospect of dancing with Edward, we finally got to studio 15. Sure, I had danced with Edward quite, ahem, intimately last night but alcohol had helped put me at ease, now I had to do it sober.

We walked into the large studio. Against a wall was a big green screen that we would presumably be, gulp, dancing in front of.

Edward sensed my tension and walked to one of the corners of the room and _Red Dress _by _The Sugababes_ filled the room. I immediately relaxed, Edward seemed to automatically know that the best way to relax me was to remind me of a good memory.

"You can't dance without music," he said, walking over to me. "We're just going to practice a few little trick moves, they only have to be 2 seconds long, and so it shouldn't be difficult. I know you can do this. We'll develop some moves that you may recognise from last night; we'll just polish them a bit. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm going to lift you up and I want you to wrap your legs around my waist and lean backwards with your arms outstretched and your back arched." _What! We did not do that last night._ "I'll spin us around a few times and then will guide you to lift up your torso to be flush against mine. We'll then grin at the camera. I will support all your weight and you just need to trust me. Okay?"

I gulped. "Okay."

All of sudden he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around him. I became very aware of just how close we were, or more accurately how close his cock was to my yoni. I tried to push that thought out of my head and lean back, but I couldn't help but fantasise about doing this naked…

We practised and practised and perfected it.

We were going through it one last time when the door opened and in came the hair and make-up team. They curled my hair and pinned it to my head and then came at me with the bronzer, but I fought against them and they eventually conceded that my natural pallor was better than being bright orange. However, that fight was nothing compared to the fight I had to have with Shelly Cope over my dress.

"Bella darling, I've found you the most wonderful dress. You'll love it!"

She pulled out a dress from the rail that she wheeled in with her, but calling it a dress was rather generous of me. It was royal blue with a low cut bodice and a tiny feather skirt that looked like it would barely cover my bottom. "Shelly, where is the rest of the dress? It appears to be missing the vast majority of the skirt, and a good deal of the top half too."

"Nonsense darling, it will flatter your slim figure beautifully, it will give you wonderful curves, try it on," she insisted.

"I don't feel comfortable in dresses that are above my knees, let alone barely covering my arse!"

"If you're going to be on _Strictly_ you need to get used to wearing dresses that go above the knee. You've got a wonderful figure; don't be afraid to show it off."

"I won't feel comfortable."

I looked at it doubtfully, and she pressed on, "You'll get used to it soon enough. You'll look fabulous, I'm a professional, trust me."

Just before she left she handed me a pair of gold five inch heels as well and quickly left before I could protest about those shoes as well. I could barely walk in two inch heels, five inch ones spelled disaster.

I decided to try the stilettos first so I could hopefully acclimatise myself before having to dance in them. I sat down to put them on and the moment I stood up I wobbled. Persevering, I took a baby step forward and almost fell over; I had to grab hold of the dressing table to stop myself from falling over. I shuffled towards my chair as carefully as I could and removed the shoes; once I had the dress on I would have to ask Shelly if she had some flat shoes.

After I was free from the ankle breakers I put my dress on, however getting it done up by myself was impossible. I called out for Shelly but she didn't come. I tried again to do the zip up, but not being double jointed it was impossible. I held up the dress with my hands and stuck my head around the door to get Shelly or another woman. I couldn't see her anywhere so I wandered down the corridor trying to protect my modesty as best as possible.

"Bella, are you okay?" called Edward from behind me.

I turned around to face him. He was wearing a tight black shirt and trousers. Phwoar.

"Have you seen Shelly? I can't do the zip up," I asked him.

"I'll do it for you."

"I'd prefer it if a woman did it."

"Don't be silly, we've got to get used to being close to each other. You can trust me, I won't lay a finger on you that you don't want me to."

I turned round so my back was to him and he quickly zipped me up. I wrapped my arms around my waist, turned round to face him again and hesitantly looked him in the eye, biting my lip. "How slutty do I look?" I asked him.

"Slutty? Not at all, you look beautiful."

"Oh come on, this dress practically begs people to stare at my tits or legs. I feel like I'm wearing lingerie!"

"You look gorgeous."

"Liar. Where is Shelly? She may have another dress I can wear."

"She has disappeared back to the costume department, she has lots of dresses to design and make for you." Shit, I was stuck with this pathetic excuse for a dress. "Look, the film crew are here, we need to get to the studio and do this."

Edward looked down at my feet. "Why aren't you wearing any shoes?" he asked.

"I can't even walk in the shoes Shelly gave me. I tried and I tripped."

"You can't do the move barefoot, let's get the shoes." He walked into my dressing room, picked them up and looked at them. "They are rather high aren't they? Good thing our move doesn't involve you putting any weight on your feet."

Edward took my hand and led me into the studio.

The assistant producer from earlier came up to us. "Bella, you look wonderful, and Edward you look handsome as ever."

"Thank you," I said shyly.

"Ready to get started?"

Edward bent down like Prince Charming and very carefully put the ridiculous heels on my feet. He stood up and supported me as I swayed while trying to stay upright.

"When the music gets started we will be," answered Edward.

Immediately_ Sexy Back_ started and Edward effortlessly lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around him.

The director stood in front of the camera with a clapper board. "_Strictly Come Dancing _series eight. Edward and Bella introductory credits. Take 1."

Edward started twirling and I leaned back. He brought his head down to between my breasts, pulled me up suddenly and we smiled at the camera.

"Cut," yelled the director.

Someone in the corner of the studio clapped, and yelled "Does someone have a fire extinguisher for these two? Because that was hot!"

Edward turned and we saw one of the judges, Bruno, a short, tanned Italian man, walking towards us.

"Hi Bruno, this is Bella Swan," introduced Edward.

Bruno took hold of my hand and kissed it. "Lovely to meet you, and may I say that you were named very well." I blushed. "After seeing a performance like that I think you two may be contenders this year. Either that or Edward will tear your clothes off live on TV. I thought he was going to rip your dress off with his teeth." I blushed even more.

"We're just doing what was required of the move," said Edward.

"Oh no, you two were doing far more than was necessary. Be careful or you'll give poor old Len a heart attack in the middle of a show. I've got a meeting to get to, so I'll see you two tonight. I'm sure you need some alone time anyway." With that Bruno walked out of the studio laughing all the way.

The director then got everyone's attention. "Perfect in one take. Very impressive you two." Edward and I smiled at one another. "Once we've packed up you may all go. See you all at K West at 8pm for the start of filming party."

Edward and I walked towards the dressing rooms.

"I think we need to get the walking-in-heels problem sorted right away. Do you have any plans for the rest of this afternoon?"

"No, but couldn't I just dance in flats?"

"I'm afraid that high heels are a prerequisite for female ballroom dancers. I know nothing about walking in heels, but I thought I'd call in reinforcements if you don't mind."

"I'd prefer to have as few people party to my embarrassment as possible if you don't mind."

"Alice and Rosalie will be much more help than I could be. Can I call them?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let's get this over and done with asap. I'll get dressed while you call them. Can you unzip me please?"

I held my dress as tight to my body as I could whilst Edward unzipped me. I walked into my dressing room and closed the door. Sure, we had filmed our unbelievably sexy intro in one take, but I was way too clumsy to walk in heels, let alone dance in them. Not for the first time I wondered what the hell I was doing here.

I got changed and opened up the door. Edward was leaning against the wall.

"They were both very eager to help. They'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

"Pick me up? I'm not practicing here?"

"You'll be doing aisle gliding, whatever that is."

"I don't think I want to know what that is."

Twenty minutes later I stood outside Television Centre dreading what was to come. Edward had left but only after promising that he'd be on the end of a phone if I needed rescuing.

A cry of excitement roused me from my worrying. "Bella!" screamed Alice as she pulled up in front of me in a bright yellow Porsche. _Well she clearly is not afraid of being recognised_. "It is so good to meet you! Sorry I didn't get a chance to chat to you earlier. Thankfully we've now got loads of time to get to know one another. Come on, jump in the car."

I was slightly overwhelmed by this monologue. She talked so much that I didn't even manage to say hello to her. When she stopped to breathe I finally managed to get the formalities over and done with. "Nice to meet you, Alice."

"Rosalie is going to meet us at Manalo Blahnik. If you need to learn how to walk in heels you need the best. Then we'll go to Sainsbury's to aisle glide."

"What on earth is aisle gliding? And what is Manalo Blahnik?"

"'_What is Manalo Blahnik?'_ Are you really a woman Bella? Tsk. Shame on you. He is only the best shoe designer ever. His shoes are sex for the feet." I was feeling really out of my depth here. "And aisle gliding is the best ever way of learning to walk in heels, and you can combine it with your weekly shopping thus killing two birds with one stone."

Alice drove like a maniac, cutting other cars up and swerving into spaces that should have been far too tight for her car to fit into. Somehow we got there in one piece, within half an hour which is unheard of in London. Miraculously there was a parking space in front of the shop, which the Porsche just fit into.

Alice stepped very gracefully out of the Porsche and strode purposefully into the shop. I followed her far less gracefully. Alice was greeted by the staff like an old friend and I noticed Rosalie already sitting down surrounded by shoes.

"Paul, I'd like you to meet Isabella Swan. She is about to become your new favourite customer," Alice said, addressing a tall and very stylishly dressed shop assistant.

"Isabella Swan, as in the author?" Paul asked.

"Yep, that's me," I replied sheepishly. I have gone for years being entirely anonymous and in the space of two days I meet four people who know who I am.

"I love your books. _A Simple Ring_ made me cry so much. You're a wonderful author!" Paul exclaimed, "So what can I do for you?"

"This woman here may be a brilliant author but she can't walk in heels," replied Alice.

"You can't walk in heels? That is a life skill darling, how did you never learn?"

"The first time I wore them I fell over and broke my ankle. Rather put me off wearing them."

"Well that has to change! What shoe size are you?"

"Six."

With that Paul, Alice and Rosalie set about finding me what seemed like hundreds of shoes.

"How many pairs do I need?"

"How many pairs can you afford?" answered Rosalie.

"How many pairs do I need so that I can learn to walk in heels?

"At least one pair of mid heels and one pair of high heels," replied Alice.

"Then that's what I'll get. Two pairs only."

All three of them looked horrified at the prospect of only having two pairs of heels.

"I suppose we should get ones that match outfits that you have. What are you wearing tonight?" asked Rosalie.

"A grey dress." They all looked at me confused and then all three of them started questioning me at the same time.

"Violet grey?"

"Charcoal?"

"Platinum?"

"Battleship grey?"

"Slate?"

"Its dark grey, I think."

Alice groaned. "What style is it?"

"Tight and knee length?" I replied.

"Stretch material or suit style?"

"Suit material."

"Pencil skirt?"

"What?"

"How much can you move your legs?"

"Barely."

"Then it's a pencil skirt."

"Strapless?"

"I don't see what this has to do with shoes," I whined.

"Just answer the question," snapped Rosalie. She seemed a little bit terrifying.

"No, it has sleeves."

"Long, three-quarter length, short, or cap?"

"I really fail to see how this relates to shoes. Can we just choose a pair of the lowest heels possible so I don't cripple myself?" I begged.

Rosalie, Alice, and Paul huddled together, "If it is dark grey a pair of dark blue or intense purple stilettos would work best," suggested Alice.

"I was thinking D'Orsays," recommended Rosalie.

"There is a fabulous pair of the darkest Cadbury purple D'Orsays with a rhinestone brooch on the toes," squealed Paul, happily.

"She'll take them in size 6," decided Alice.

Half an hour later I left with a much lighter wallet and two new pairs of shoes, the purple ones and a lower black "kitten heel", whatever that was. Alice was driving, once again, at brake neck speed with little consideration for road rules or other drivers. Yet somehow we made it to Sainsbury's safely and Rosalie pulled in next to us in her convertible red BMW. Why anyone owns a convertible in the UK I will never know, there are only about two days a year you can drive with the top down.

We got out of the cars and walked towards the entrance to Sainbury's.

"Aisle gliding is the best way to learn to walk in heels or to break in some new shoes. The trolley provides the perfect balancing aide, the surface is perfectly flat, and there is plenty of space to walk in," explained Alice.

"We want you to practice how to walk in heels now, even though you're wearing flats. The technique is slightly different," instructed Rosalie, "You need to almost cross your feet in front of each other." She demonstrated and it looked like she was walking on a tightrope. "And wiggle your hips naturally as you do so."

I watched as Alice and Rosalie made it look effortless, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I copied them and looked ridiculous.

"Don't worry Bella, after an hour or so of practice you'll get it," chirped Alice.

An hour! I didn't know if I'd last a minute with heels on.

We got some trolleys and walked into the huge supermarket.

"Kitten heels first, we'll work up to the D'Orsays," said Alice as she handed me the shoes. I squeezed my feet in and held onto my trolley for support as I righted myself.

We walked down every single aisle and I slowly seemed to be getting the hang of it, although I dreaded the moments where they made me let go of the trolley and walk to the shelves unaided. I almost fell, but I managed to catch myself at the last moment.

We made it to the other end of the shop and I began to think that Alice and Rosalie had decided that I had practiced enough, but those hopes were short lived.

"Time to put on the D'Orsays," instructed Rosalie, thrusting them in my direction. I groaned but submitted and immediately felt less secure.

"You're doing really well so far," encouraged Alice, "So, you and Edward seem to be getting on very well together."

"He is a nice guy."

"Just a nice guy?"

"He is a very nice guy."

"So there is nothing going on between you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Bella, are you blind? He clearly fancies you," said Rosalie.

"You're being ridiculous. I highly doubt he finds me attractive."

"Sure, so you may not wear heels or make-up, but you're still very attractive. Edward can't keep his eyes off you," said Alice.

"There is nothing in the contract about not dating your dance partner," stated Rosalie matter of factly.

"Look, nothing is going on, so can you please stop embarrassing me!" I entreated.

The rest of the aisle gliding session was painful but helpful. I was finally beginning to think I was getting somewhere, provided I could ignore the throbbing pain in my feet. Thankfully Alice had provided some "cushions" and blister plasters that should make them more comfortable.

Alice dropped me off at my hotel, insisting that she'd be at my room an hour early to help me do my hair and make-up. "I'm going to force you to see just how gorgeous you are," she said.

I spent the rest of my afternoon in my hotel room working on my new novel idea, sketching out characters, and chapter organisations. I shut out the city and all the noise and concentrated. I was jolted back to earth by a knock on the door.

I opened the door to see an excited looking Alice on the other side.

"I love make-overs!" she gushed, then took one look at me, "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"I got caught up in planning a new novel," I admitted.

"Oh! After having a quick shower you'll have to tell me all about it!" squealed Alice, shoving me into the en suite. "You've got ten minutes to have a shower and get out or I'll drag you out!"

I was out of the shower in seven minutes.

Alice didn't even let me dress, instead I sat there in a bath robe being poked and prodded. She quickly dried, straightened and curled my hair. Quite why it was necessary to straighten and then curl my hair I do not know. She then set to work on my make up. By anyone else's standards they would have considered it light make-up, it was certainly far lighter than what the make-up artist had put on me earlier, but I was used to wearing mascara at most and so it felt really heavy.

At ten to eight she stepped back and looked at her handiwork. "Gorgeous!" she declared, "Where is your dress?"

I grabbed my dress and some clean underwear and hastily retreated to the en suite to get dressed.

"You'll soon get used to changing in front of all of us girls!" called Alice, but I certainly hoped I wouldn't.

When I reappeared she appraised my dress. "Well, it is a few seasons old but the Galaxy dress was a classic. It suits you."

She thrust the high-high heels at me and I put them on.

"What jewellery were you planning to wear?" she asked.

"Oh, I forgot to bring any."

"Good thing I covered all eventualities, eh?" Alice dived into her seemingly never ending Mary-Poppins-style bag and pulled out some diamante jewellery that matched the heels. I put them on without complaint.

"Stunning! If Edward couldn't keep his eyes off you before he certainly won't be able to now."

I groaned, grabbed a small bag and headed to the door. I passed a floor length mirror on the way and was shocked by my appearance. I really did look good; the heels pushed my boobs out, flattened my stomach and tightened up my bum, the make-up highlighted my lips and eyes, and the dress flattered my figured.

Alice caught me staring at the mirror. "I told you so," she said. I could only nod in response.

Alice and I walked into the hotel's lounge. We were a few minutes late and almost everyone was there already. Alice went off to see Jasper, but I couldn't see Edward so I headed straight for the bar.

I looked at their beer choices despondently; they only had the mass-produced beers that I never touched. I was perusing the wine menu when I became aware of someone standing next to me.

"G'day Shelia. Do you have any Australian in you?"

Standing next to me was a tall man with shoulder length blonde hair and a clearly fake tan. He was trying to be as stereotypically Australian as possible, and I hated pretenders.

"No."

"Do you want some?"

"Excuse me?" _The nerve of this man!_

"The name's James, although you may know me as Bill."

"I'm Bella. I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

"Oh. You can't be a fan of _Neighbours_ then."

"Unfortunately I don't have time to watch soap operas."

"No time at all in the arvo?"

"I'm afraid not."

The bar staff came to take our order and I requested a glass of Penfolds.

"Australian, good choice," murmured James approvingly, "I'm Australian you know and I grew up relatively close, in Australian terms, to the vineyard."

"I had realised you were Australian, you've been making that clear as day." I was getting rather fed up with this man and was rapidly becoming rude.

"So, are you in the crew?"

"No, I'm one of the celebrities."

"I don't recognise you, but then I don't recognise loads of pom celebrities so don't take it personally. You know, we'll probably be spending quite a lot of time together over the coming weeks."

"I think we may end up seeing each other a few times a week."

"I look forward to getting to know you very well Bella."

"Bye."

I got my glass of wine and fled as fast as I could. He made my skin crawl, the self-obsessed bastard.

As I fled I tripped over Edward and, still being unsteady on my heels, fell. I narrowly missed the floor thanks to Edward catching me before I could, although I spilled my whole glass of wine.

"Woah there! Are you okay?"

"I am now."

"Seeing as you tripped over me may I offer you another drink?"

"That depends; do I have to go to the bar?"

"Why don't you want to go to the bar?"

"See that guy with long blonde hair propping the bar up and chatting Alice up?" I pointed towards the bar. "He was trying to chat me up only a few minutes ago. The sleeze."

"Don't worry, Jasper will put him in his place soon enough. So, if the bar is temporarily out of bounds may I have this dance?"

Edward stretched out a hand towards me and I took it. He led me towards a sizeable dance floor.

"No _Strictly_ party would be complete without a large dance floor."

Several professional couples were already tangoing away, and I wondered whether other people were too intimidated by them to dance, I was certainly feeling exceptionally intimidated. Had it not been for Edward I would not have ventured within five meters of the dance floor.

It seemed like Edward read my thoughts. "Relax, this is just for fun."

Soon we were twirling round the floor and I had forgotten all about the other couples, James or even _Strictly_, I was just enjoying myself. The DJ next played _I'll Stand by You_ by Girls Aloud and our pace rapidly slowed in response and we were waltzing. All of a sudden Edward stopped all together.

"May I cut in?" asked Sir Michael Newton.

Edward looked into my eyes in an apologetic manner before replying, "Of course." As he handed me over to Sir Michael.

The difference between Sir Michael's dancing ability and Edward's was pronounced, although Sir Michael seemed to be entirely oblivious to this. "You may have noticed that I've had dance training. We had lessons once a week at boarding school. I like to think that I haven't forgotten much in the past twenty years." Twenty years since he left school? More like forty.

The DJ seemed to be in an exceptionally varied mood as the next song he played was _Umbrella_. The prospect of having to dance with Sir Michael to a song that required closer dancing turned my stomach and I was exceptionally grateful to be rescued by Edward.

"I don't think Sir Michael is going to be much competition," Edward snickered.

"Thanks for rescuing a damsel in distress."

"I'm afraid to say that it wasn't entirely altruistic; I get to dance with a beautiful woman."

We danced even closer than we had previously, and as our bodies gyrated I couldn't help but think about what Alice had said earlier, was it really possible that this sexy man fancied me? I quickly dismissed the notion and focused on the dancing. Edward was very gently correcting my moves as we danced; he was just treating this dance like practice. At least that is what I thought until Emmett and Rosalie danced past with Emmett calling out to us, "Get a room!"

Rosalie helpfully added, "She already has one." and then winked at Edward.

Naturally I went bright red and then swiftly headed to the bar. I was in sore need of a glass of wine.

I found Seth at the bar and stood next to him.

"Enjoying yourself?" I asked.

"No, too much dancing for my liking," replied Seth, laughing.

"Well you better start getting used to it. Want to dance?"

"Who am I to turn down a beautiful woman?"

"Actually, would you mind if we sat down and had a drink first? I'm in dire need of some alcohol in my system."

We sat down with our drinks within view of the dance floor. Edward was dancing with Tanya but in the middle of the space were people who Seth identified as Jessica, Lauren, Leah, James and Kate. Seth helpfully informed me that Jessica is the member of some all-girl pop group, Lauren is a glamour model, Leah an Emmerdale actress, and Kate was on Big Brother. I am proud to say that I had not recognised a single one of them. All of the girls were dressed in very tight dresses that covered as small a part of their body as they could get away with. They all clearly thought they were fantastic dancers, particularly Jessica who was grinding against James. Last week I would've called her slutty but I had been dancing similarly (but better) with Edward so I was in no place to comment. They were all trying to be the centre of attention but they had only attracted the attention of one person, Sir Michael, who stood like a predator stalking his prey. He zeroed in on Lauren and, without asking her, started to dance exceedingly close to her bottom. It made me very grateful that I had been rescued by Edward at the start of _Umbrella_.

The track changed and Jessica squealed "It's my song!" She tried to clear space for her to do the full dance routine but failed miserably. Undeterred, she sang and danced to the very best of her ability considering the small space she had procured and her inebriated state. Halfway through the awful song that she was clearly so proud of, Sir Michael successfully moved himself and Lauren into Jessica's trajectory.

Jessica did a twirl just as Lauren and Sir Michael moved and they hit her straight on. Lauren and Sir Michael supported each other in the wake of the collision but Jessica fell straight backwards into Leah who fell over and cushioned Jessica's fall.

From our perspective overlooking the dance floor Seth and I were unable to hear the following exchanged, but it looked heated. Jessica was yelling at Sir Michael and Lauren whilst ignoring Leah who appeared to be slightly injured. Edward, Emmett and Rosalie were all laughing out loud while Jasper tried in vain to calm the three of them down and Alice made sure that Leah was okay. Seth and I were in stitches.

Once the whole mess was cleared up we realised that our drinks were empty and we had been secreting ourselves away so we headed back to the bar again.

Edward was nursing a whisky and chatting to Laurent, a professional dancer who I had not yet had a chance to meet. Laurent was tall and had olive skin, whilst he was half Italian-half French he was every inch the Italian Stallion and by the way he was holding himself, he knew it.

"Bella, where did you get to?" asked Edward.

"I sat down and had a chat to Seth whilst we watched the dance floor debacle unfold."

"So you saw it then? It has ensured that this is one _Strictly_ party that won't be forgotten about for a long time," Laurent commented, "I'm Laurent by the way."

"Bella. Nice to meet you." I shook his hand.

"Who is your celebrity partner?" I asked.

"Kate, the one who was on _Big Brother_," answered Laurent.

"Is she a good dancer?"

"Not especially, but then we can't all get so lucky can we Edward?" I blushed in response.

"Bella, can I get you a drink?" asked Edward.

"A glass of red wine would be wonderful thanks."

Whilst we were waiting for the bar staff to take our order _Crazy in Love_ came on and I started wiggling my hips to the beat.

"Sod the drink. I need to dance to this song. Would either of you gentlemen like to dance with me?" I requested.

Both made a move to step forward but Edward grabbed my hand first and responded "I would love to" and led me to the dance floor.

"We're going to do the cha cha." He stood flush behind me and held my hips. He started gyrating his hips in time to the music and repeated "one, two, cha cha cha". Once I got that he stood facing me, took my arms in his and we danced properly. By the end of the song Edward had added twirls, twists and dips.

Unfortunately, I got stolen by Jasper, then Emmett, Laurent and even Seth. By the time I had finished dancing with Seth my feet really hurt. They had been throbbing all evening but I had ignored the pain. Suddenly I was limping and plopped into the first seat I saw. It happened to be a sofa and it was already somewhat occupied by a beautiful blonde woman.

"I hope you don't mind but my feet are very painful," I said, removing my shoes and very gently massaging my exceptionally sore feet. The cushions that Alice had given me weren't very effective.

"I don't mind at all. I'm Kate and you must be Bella," she replied.

"Nice to meet you. Enjoying your night?"

"Its okay, but since Jessica fell on Leah I haven't been dancing much."

"Why not?"

"Jessica needed my help."

"Oh. Where is she now?"

"She and James took off."

"Oh. You should get up on that dance floor."

"I don't have anyone to dance with."

"You shouldn't let that stop you, particularly when we can solve it so easily." I looked round and saw a cute assistant director that Edward had introduced me to earlier, I waved him over. "Garrett! Were you planning on pulling a Mr Darcy?"

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Kate here is in need of a dance partner and you appear to be free."

"Nice to meet you Kate, I'm Garrett. May I have this dance?" he asked gallantly.

"Yes," she replied, "Want to come?"

"No thanks, I think my feet have had enough for one night." They walked off, leaving me alone.

Edward appeared and sat in the spot that Kate had vacated. He noticed that I had my shoes off. "Sore feet?" he asked whilst swinging my legs so that my feet rested on his lap. He began to massage before I could stop him. He pushed down slightly too hard and I couldn't help but wince. "Sorry," he said and massaged more gently.

"That is very sweet of you but you really don't need to. Besides that anything touching my feet really hurts."

"So no more dancing tonight?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not. In fact I've had two late nights and early mornings in a row so I should probably call it a night."

Edward looked slightly disappointed at my response. "I understand. How about we start rehearsals at eleven to give you a lie in?"

"That would be nice. Where is the dance studio?"

"I'll pick you up."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to. Plus, you'll need to rest your feet as much as possible; they'll be well used in the coming weeks."

"Thanks." I stood up and tried to conceal my wince at the pain. I kissed him on the cheeks. "See you at eleven."

"See you then." I walked away with my shoes in my hands and willed myself not to turn around. My body betrayed me and I turned and smiled at Edward just before I exited the room. He smiled back.

A/N

Sir Michael Newton was a real person in the nineteenth century. I saw a plaque to them in Beverley Minster and knew I had to make Mike Newton into Sir Michael Newton.

To my knowledge there is no Scouting themed gay bar. Unfortunately it is a work of fiction.

I learned about aisle gliding (although I've never done it) in an amazing manual for the modern woman called How to Walk in High Heels: The girls guide to everything by Camila Moreton. It covers everything from heels to how to buy a house. Well worth a read.

**Any suggestions for songs that I should include?** All suggestions gratefully received.

Glossary

Arvo: Afternoon

Boot: The trunk of a car

Emmerdale: Soap opera set in a village in the north of England.

Neighbours: An Australian soap opera set in a Melbourne suburb.

Sainsbury's: A supermarket.

Slutty: Someone (usually a woman) who looks sexually promiscuous.

Yoni: The Sanskrit word for vagina. Translates as 'source of all life' or 'sacred space'.

Zip: Zipper


	4. And So It Begins

A/N: Huge thanks to smexy4smarties and rodeomom_95 for sorting out my appalling comas and making it readable.

Sorry it has been a while since I last posted. I've now written several chapters ahead and planned a few more so I'll try and be more regular in future.

There is a glossary at the bottom for any confusing British words.

Alas, Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and not me.

* * *

EPOV

I hadn't seen Bella for ten hours. That was the longest I had gone without seeing her since I met her. It was too long. Despite being tired and needing to be well rested for the start of rehearsals, I woke up early. I itched to see Bella. The previous day had been wonderful, even with the jibes we faced from Emmett and Jasper. I couldn't wait to see her.

I had channelled my nervous energy into choreographing our first dance routine. We were doing the Viennese Waltz, which we had already danced so she wasn't starting from scratch. I hadn't got very far into my choreography because I couldn't decide which song I wanted us to dance to. In an attempt to decide, I had made a playlist of all the choices on my iPod, and I was planning to run them past her before choosing.

It was unprofessional, but I could choreograph as we went along.

Whilst scrolling through my iPod, I had come across a very apt song, _Here Today_ by _The Beach Boys_. The whole song could have been written for me and Bella,

"_You know you ought to take it slower but you just can't wait to get to know her… Keep in my love is here today and it's gone tomorrow. Its here and gone so fast." _

The advice hit the right note and steeled me for seeing Bella. I would take it slow even if it killed me.

I pulled up in front of Bella's hotel half an hour early and was surprised to see her already waiting outside. She was dressed in exercise clothes and was half-heartedly writing in a notebook. Every few seconds her eyes would dart around the front of the hotel looking for me. It didn't take her long to spot me.

"You're early!" she exclaimed as she got into my car.

"You too. I couldn't sleep. I was too excited to start rehearsals."

"I was, too! I was going stir crazy in the hotel room and had to get outside."

"I'm glad you can't wait to get started, but before we go there're is a problem I need your help with."

"Are you okay?" Bella asked, looking concerned.

"I'm fine, just indecisive. I've put together a list of possible songs to dance to, and I want your input. If you have any other suggestions, please do say. The producers want us to dance to some more modern songs, so they aren't all the usual ballroom style songs."

I pressed play and _At Last_ by Etta James came from the speakers. I handed Bella the iPod to peruse and we set off.

"I love this song, it's so beautiful. I can only hope to feel that much love one day," Bella commented. "It's a bit of a cliché though, but a good one."

She skipped to the next song and _Just the Way You Are_ by Billy Joel came on. "Another beautiful cliché."

_Let it Be_ by The Beatles was on next. "Oh, unusual choice. But shouldn't a waltz be a love song?"

"Not necessarily. But I like to think _Let it Be_ is a love song, although one sung between friends rather than lovers. It's mainly on there to help relax you on the show. Perhaps Mother Mary will come to you…"

"'… speaking words of wisdom let it be'" Bella finished for me. "Alright, still a contender." Once again Bella skipped to the next song. "Another Billy Joel song? Some may consider that a tad embarrassing."

"Billy Joel is a legend. _She's Always a Woman _is genius and a great Waltz song."

The song that came next surprised Bella. "Why Mr. Cullen, what eclectic tastes you have."

"Girls Aloud are awesome."

Bella laughed. "They certainly have their moments, and _I'll Stand by You_ is one of them. Not sure I can see this as a Waltz, though doesn't feel right."

"Fair enough. One discounted so far. We're doing well!"

As _A Million Love Songs_ by Take That came on next, Bella laughed even harder, "You have to stop with the clichés. I'm becoming allergic!"

"Really? Are you getting a rash?" I teased.

"Seriously, can we please choose a less tacky song?"

"In that case you probably want to skip the next song."

"Why?"

"It's _Father and Son_ by Boyzone."

Bella groaned in response. "The song does have good advice, but I'm going to ban boy bands."

"In that case, you'll need to skip to the last two songs."

She rolled her eyes as she obeyed and _Moon River_ rang throughout the car.

"Really? We could dance to this?" Bella said excitedly.

"Yes, if you want to, but I think you should listen to the last one before you decide."

Yet again she skipped forward, and _Shining Light_ by Ash played from the speakers. I had chosen it because it was the second song we ever danced to and the first time she began to believe she could dance.

"This one. It has to be this one. Firstly, I will be well and truly showing Pete that I can do this. Secondly, it isn't a cliché. It is perfect."

"Excellent. The only thing is that because of the upbeat pace we'll have to be twirling quite fast during the chorus. In the pub I was twirling us too slowly. It isn't the easiest thing to do."

"I don't care. It will take me back to dancing in the pub, and it will be well worth it for that alone."

We spent the next few minutes listening to the song. I began to choreograph it in my head.

As we pulled up in front of the dance studio, I remembered to check on Bella's well-being. "I forgot to ask how your feet are."

"A little sore, but not too bad."

"Well, I've got something that will hopefully help keep your feet happy."

I got out of the car, opened Bella's door and retrieved a box from the boot. I handed it to Bella, who looked confused.

"A foot spa?"

"They work miracles on sore feet. I thought it might help."

"Thanks so much! That is such a thoughtful present. I don't know how to repay you."

She gave me a big hug and I answered, "That is repayment enough. Come on, I'll show you to the dance studio."

I walked Bella to the gym that housed the studio we'd be using. We took the lift up a few stories, and I led her to the large studio that had big windows overlooking London.

"Is this where the magic happens?" Bella joked.

"Here's hoping."

I formally taught Bella the basic steps, and we spent a few hours trying to perfect them before Bella started huffing. She had been getting increasingly fed up, but it seemed like she finally snapped.

"I'm sorry Edward but I need a break. The repetition is driving me insane."

"Do you want a coffee? Or to go for a walk?"

"No, I think I need a kitchen dance."

"You've lost me."

"Remember when you walked in on me dancing in my kitchen to _Red Dress_? That was kitchen dancing. When at home, I only ever dance in my kitchen. It is impromptu and almost deliberately bad. It's dancing like nobody is watching. It helps me to relax." She walked over to my iPod and paused the Waltz that was playing in the background. "The music must be upbeat. And I can promise you it will be crap but therein the beauty lies. Forget about your dance training and just let loose. Have fun. And try not to watch me."

_Dancing with Myself_ by Billy Idol came from the speakers that were positioned around the room. Bella had her eyes shut and was dancing with abandon. She was waving her hands above her head and jumping, twisting and turning in time with the music. A few minutes previously she had been tense, bored, and fed up, now her body was completely relaxed. I started to dance as well, and I have to admit that it felt good. Letting go was something I didn't do often and it was very liberating. It was fun. Kitchen dancing was something that would have to be incorporated into our rehearsals.

"That is a rather interesting Viennese waltz, Edward. Rather unconventional. The judges will be speechless." I opened my eyes and saw Tanya standing in front of me. "I've got the neighbouring studio as usual, and I heard music coming from here so I thought I'd check out the competition. I don't think I need to be worried."

"We're kitchen dancing," piped up Bella, whose blush gave away her embarrassment. She had her arms wrapped around her waist in a defensive stance and appeared timid. She stepped towards Tanya and introduced herself. "I don't think we had the chance to meet yesterday. I'm Bella."

"Tanya. Nice to meet you." She held up her hand towards Bella and they shook hands. Tanya's eyes were looking Bella up and down appraisingly, and she sneered slightly as she did so.

In front of me I had both my past and my hopeful future. Tanya was gorgeous but was very vain; despite only having to rehearse, she was wearing lots of make-up for the cameras. Bella was the opposite; she was wearing old yoga trousers, a tight t-shirt and not a scrap of make-up. There was no doubt in my mind who looked more beautiful.

Bella gave Tanya the once over and she looked more intimidated by the second. It was almost as though Tanya made her feel not worthy to be here. I needed to put a stop to this.

"Tanya, it was nice to see you but I'm afraid that we need to get back to practising."

"Enjoy your kicking dance," she sneered.

"Kitchen dance," I corrected.

"Whatever. See you soon."

She walked out of the room, and I turned to Bella who looked depressed.

"Want to go spy on her?" I asked.

"No, I'm not stooping to her level. I would, however, really like to beat her. Can we practice some more?"

We spent the next hour getting the basic footwork right before actually learning the dance. Midway through the afternoon a camera crew came to film our practice. At first Bella felt really self-conscious, but after she concentrated on the dancing instead of the cameras she was fine.

After a while Bella got her posture dead on, but the fast spinning made her feel very dizzy.

"You've got to fix a point on the wall and focus on it; it will stop you feeling dizzy."

"But I keep moving. I can't always see one spot."

"Each time you turn around, fix your eyes on it for as long as possible. It's called spotting."

"I think I might puke on national television."

"You won't puke."

"I will. Or I'll faint. Or both. Fuck. Why am I doing this? It's all Angela's fault. Fucking Angela." Bella paused. "The cameras are still here, aren't they? I just swore on camera. Shit."

"They'll edit that out and you'll be fine. You will not puke or faint when we are dancing. Ever. I'm willing to put in as much time as necessary until we get this right. You can do this. We can do this." Bella looked doubtfully into my eyes. "We can train for twelve hours a day if necessary."

"Really?"

"Really."

Despite spending the afternoon focussing on it, Bella didn't grasp the technique of spotting and ended up feeling thoroughly ill. However, overnight I had a brainwave. When Bella arrived for practice -she had insisted on taking the tube to the studio from now on- she was greeted with a picture of the front cover of her new novel on the wall.

"What is that doing here?" she asked.

"I figured you needed something specific to focus on. I decided that the best thing is the reason you're here in the first place. So, every time we turn I want you to focus on your future best-seller. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes. Yes I can." Bella smiled at me and stood a bit taller. "Thank you so much, Edward; it was really thoughtful of you." She came up to me and gave me a big hug.

"My pleasure." And I meant it. I'd do anything for her just for one hug.

"By the way, I finished _Back to Basics_ last night. It is amazing. Your best novel yet. It should sell itself."

Bella blushed. "I'm glad you liked it," she replied modestly and blushed slightly.

Focussing on the novel worked wonders. Bella was no longer feeling sick or dizzy, and we were able to learn the dance in earnest.

By mid-afternoon, Bella got a bit bored and abruptly walked towards the iPod dock. She unplugged my iPhone and plugged in her iPod. MIA's _Paper Planes_ came on, and Bella started bobbing to the music and walking towards me, miming the words. She was word perfect and put on a perfect performance of MIA. She mimed shooting me during the chorus, and I reacted like I'd been shot, my body jerking backwards for each of the shots. She came up next to me, put one hand around my waist and carried on pretending to shoot from point blank range. When the male rap part started, I took over the miming and Bella walked around me slowly until she burst out laughing.

"What? Does the idea of me rapping amuse you?"

"Edward, as talented as you undoubtedly are, rapping is not one of your gifts."

"How dare you suggest that I is not fly, innit?" I replied in a south London accent replete with home boy hand gestures.

"You rap like a ballroom dancer," Bella laughed with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Ya get me?"

"You is disrespecting me."

"No I neva."

"Fo shizzle my nizzle."

"Me babber don't know nutting."

"Eh up?"

"Oh Edward, Edward, Edward, Edward." Bella shook her sadly and patted me gently on the cheek. She walked to the iPod dock, switched back to my iPhone and the music once again returned to the more familiar territory of waltzes. "Shall we return to your comfort zone?"

Occasionally, time seems to disappear. That afternoon was one of those occasions. I vaguely registered the sun going down, but it wasn't until I heard Bella's stomach rumble that I checked my watch and discovered that it was nine o'clock.

"I'm so sorry! We've literally danced the night away."

"I wouldn't call it the night, more the afternoon and evening," Bella responded.

"Still, I shouldn't have kept you this long."

"Don't worry about it, it's not like I've got loads to get back to my hotel room for. I didn't even realise I was hungry. When I get busy, I forget to eat. When I'm writing, I sometimes only have one meal a day."

"Still, will you let me take you to dinner as way of apology?"

"Only if you let me pay as way of thanking you for the teaching."

"I couldn't do that! I'm getting to dance with you and getting paid. That's repayment enough."

"Dutch?"

"You want to go to a Dutch restaurant? Do they even have those? What would they serve anyway? Hash brownies and edam?"

"No, how about we split the bill?" Bella said, bemused.

"Oh. I'd prefer to pay, but if that is the only way to get to have dinner with you, then it is a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

"Good."

"We could try and find a Dutch restaurant."

Bella laughed and turned the lights out as we left the studio for the first time in twelve hours. "Come on, I'm hungry."

Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of a restaurant that I'd never even heard of but had discovered thanks to a hasty Google search as we exited the studio.

"Well, you said you wanted to go Dutch."

"London actually has a Dutch restaurant?"

"London has a restaurant for every kind of cuisine, and Google will tell you where it is."

We feasted on herrings, pancakes and chips with mayonnaise. She was looking tired and slightly dishevelled after the day's hard training ,but still looked stunning. I had to keep telling myself that it wasn't a date. But I wished it was so much. Being with Bella was so easy, so right. We spent the next hour and a half laughing and slowly drinking Dutch lager.

Bella had left her phone on the table while she went to the bathroom and it had started to ring. I decided to answer it for her.

"Bella's phone."

"Hello. Who is this?"

"I'm Edward, Bella's friend."

"Are you Edward Cullen?"

"Yes, that's me."

"So it's true? Bella's on _Strictly_?"

"Yep." I had no idea who I was talking to.

"Well you'd think she'd have at least bothered to tell her own mum. I'm Bella's mum, Renee."

"She didn't tell you?"

"No. First thing I hear about it is when Brian comes in for his shift squealing like a girl and flapping a copy of _Closer_ in my face. He is so excited to know one of the celebs."

"Oh." I think she was talking about one of her employees at the bar she ran, but I was confused.

"I'm so proud of my Bella. I love the show. Could I see it being filmed?"

"Bella's likely to be a bit nervous. She probably won't want family there."

"She won't mind me being there. Probably won't even notice me. I should be allowed to watch my only child dance."

"Well…"

"Please get me two tickets. Bella will appreciate the moral support."

"Well you know her better than I do…"

"Is that a yes? Thank you! See you Saturday!"

Bella returned just as her mother hung up. She saw me holding her phone. "Find anything incriminating?"

"What? No. Your mum called and I answered."

"What did she want?" Bella asked dubiously.

"She wanted to know if _Closer_ magazine was correct in you being on _Strictly_. She was a bit annoyed that you hadn't told her."

"Oops."

"And she wanted tickets for the show."

"Please tell me you turned her down."

"Well… she's quite persuasive…"

"Oh, you didn't. She's so embarrassing."

"You sound like a teenager," I laughed.

"See what she does to me?"

"Sorry, but I'm sure it'll be fine. How embarrassing can she be?"

"She owns a Scouting themed gay bar."

"Good point. But I'm not refusing her tickets. She scared me a bit."

"She scared you?"

"She kept talking and talking. I couldn't get a word in edgeways."

"You should be used to that. You grew up with Alice."

Bella was missing the crux of the problem, and I couldn't point it out to her. You never get on the bad side of the mother of a girl you like. _She could potentially become my future mother-in-law._ I wasn't about to cross her.

"Too late now anyway. It's done. It'll be fine and she'll be really proud."

Somehow Bella forgave me, and we changed the topic and carried on chatting until we were interrupted.

"Ahem, sir," the waitress coughed, "I'm sorry, but we are closing now. Here is your bill." I snapped out of my Bella-induced-trance and noticed that all around us the chairs were upside down upon the tables. The staff had prepared for closing without us even knowing. I reached for my wallet and pulled out the requisite cash leaving a big tip as way of apology.

I stood up to go and helped Bella put her jacket on.

"I thought we were going Dutch," Bella complained.

"We did. We went to a Dutch restaurant."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well I'm afraid that it's as Dutch as I get. Get used to being treated like a lady."

"You didn't have to."

"I know. I wanted to."

"Well thank you very much, Mr. Cullen."

"The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Swan."

"Oh no, on that at least we went Dutch."

The next day passed by in a blur of practising. Normally I would be sick to the back teeth of the dance by this point, but Bella had made it bearable. Scratch that, she'd made it enjoyable.

On Thursday we had costume fittings at Television Centre and so I met Bella there. She didn't seem to be her usual self.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, "Did the dress scare you?"

"Of course it scared me; it's a ballroom dancing dress. But that's not what is bothering me. I'm feeling a bit homesick."

"Missing Avebury and your lovely cottage?"

"Yes, but I'm missing my kitchen more."

"I'm sorry. You've lost me."

"I haven't cooked in almost a week. I'm really sick of supermarket sandwiches and restaurants."

"Oh. Well I have kitchen. Want to come over tonight and make use of it? We could cook together."

"Thank you that would be wonderful."

As we made our way out of the main entrance we ran into Alice.

"Edward! Bella!" she exclaimed as she kissed us on the cheeks.

"Why haven't you been returning my calls, Edward? I've been worried. I had decided that I was going to come to your studio if I hadn't heard from you by this afternoon."

"Sorry, we've been busy practising."

"Really? That doesn't sound like you at all. Usually you do the least amount of rehearsal with your celebrity partners that you can get away with."

"We've been working really late into the night perfecting it all," contributed Bella.

A cheeky smile spread across Alice's face as she looked me in the eye. "Glad to hear it. Would it be possible to end your rehearsals earlier than usual tonight? I'm missing my brother."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Bella is missing cooking so she is coming over to my place to cook tonight."

Alice pouted slightly at Bella, trying to guilt her into inviting her over. I prayed that Bella wouldn't fall for it.

"If you're missing your brother why don't you join us?" offered Bella. Damn.

"Thank you, Bella, that would be lovely. It has been far too long since I went to a dinner party. Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie and I will be at Edward's at seven thirty."

I groaned. The last time we'd had a dinner party, Rosalie had burnt the food, and we'd had to order Chinese. Somehow we ended up playing drinking games and getting trashed. Emmett had passed out on Alice and Jasper's sofa naked, and we hadn't been able to move him. I really didn't want a repeat of that tonight.

As Alice sauntered off to the costume department and we walked towards my car, I tried to dissuade Bella from the dinner party idea.

"I could just call the whole thing off. A dinner party takes lots of preparation."

"It doesn't have to take too long. I was thinking that we could make a paella; that doesn't take too long to make. Oh, and some tapas as well – green beans and chorizo, pan com tomate, olives, cheese, almonds…" I have to confess that I zoned out as Bella reeled off a long list of dishes. "… with red wine and sangria of course."

"We have to practice as well as cook today."

"With the both of us cooking I think we can do it in two hours with ease. Obviously we'll have to go shopping as well."

"I'll do you a deal. We can do the dinner party provided we train extra hard in the time that we've got. No kitchen dancing."

"Can we kitchen dance in the actual kitchen?" Bella asked innocently, pouting slightly.

"I'm not sure if my kitchen can handle it…"

"I think your kitchen can handle it," Bella said. She was standing very close to me and looking up at me through her lashes, pouting her lips like she was about to kiss me.

"I-I think kitchen dancing in my kitchen might be acceptable," I stammered, and against my better judgement, I bent my head towards hers. I could resist her no longer. This woman would be the death of me.

"Good!" Bella exclaimed as she dodged my kiss by abruptly skipping away from me whilst smiling broadly. "We better get a move on. Which way to your car?"

She already had me wrapped around her finger, and she knew it. Bollocks.

We spent four hours in solid rehearsal, and I knew we were completely ready for the live show. For week one, our dance was excellent. I knew the judges would be impressed.

As I held Bella in my arms for our final dip position, I once again regretted that we were having a dinner party. It meant that I wouldn't spend as much time with Bella in my arms as I wanted to.

"We'd better get going to the market before they close."

"Market! We get to go to a proper market?" Bella asked excitedly.

"You don't think I'd force supermarket bought fish onto you, do you? As luck would have it, there is a farmers market on today on the way to my place. Come on."

As Bella spoke knowledgeably with the stall holders about how bright the fish scales were and how mature the cheese was, I stood back bemused. I liked food but was not a foodie. It was becoming very clear that Bella was most definitely one. Three quarters of an hour later, I dragged Bella away with our arms full of seafood, cured meats, olives, cheeses, rustic bread, fresh fruit and vegetables. Bella was smiling from ear to ear and itching to get into the kitchen. I loved seeing her so passionate about something.

She had never seen my flat before, but she walked straight into the kitchen without being told where it was like she had a homing signal. Looking around the rarely used but spacious kitchen with granite worktops and stainless steel appliances, she smiled and walked towards me.

"Thank you so much!" Bella enveloped me in a big bear hug and started jumping up and down. After a few seconds of undisguised joy she stopped, stood tall and still and asked, "So, where does my iPod go?"

An hour later, we were chopping, sautéing and preparing. With Bella as head chef and me as sous, we were a great team. We were getting things done much quicker than expected but still managed to dance whilst doing it.

I poured two glasses of red wine and handed one to Bella. "The chef needs a glass of wine."

"She does indeed."

Bella was chopping up chorizo, and it looked delicious. I went to steal a chunk only to have Bella slap my hand away. "Ow!"

"You'll ruin your appetite. They'll be here in half an hour anyway. Can you please slice the bread into one and a half centimetre thick slices and prepare the cheese board?"

I followed Bella's instructions until _I Want You Back_ by _Jackson 5_ came on. I cha cha'd over to her and came up behind her. I took the knife out of her hand and whispered, "Kitchen dance break I think," into Bella's ear.

"A kitchen dance break is definitely required," Bella agreed, turning around.

We boogied away to the song, didn't stop when _Billie Jean_ came on afterwards. We were still dancing half an hour later when the bell rang.

"Is it seven thirty already?" Bella asked. "I'm not ready yet!"

"I'm sure they can wait a bit. They've got plenty to nibble on anyway."

I opened the door and let Alice, Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie in.

"Michael Jackson, nice," Jasper commented on the music choice.

"Wow that smells good Bella. I'm starving!" exclaimed Emmett.

"I'm afraid it'll be a bit longer. We got distracted. Sorry," apologised Bella.

Our guests all raised their eyebrows at me. "By dancing. We were distracted by dancing," I explained and quickly moved the conversation on. "Can I get anyone a drink?"

After receiving four requests for a glass of wine, I dutifully retrieved one of the bottles of wine that I had opened to breathe and four glasses. I then popped back into the kitchen and grabbed a tray full of the tapas that we'd prepared.

"Am I allowed to eat now?" I asked Bella.

"Only because you asked nicely," she joked. "I've just got to pop the paella into the oven. I'll be in soon."

I carried the tray into the dining room and set the tapas down in the front of my guests. Emmett dove in immediately and was very vocal in his appreciation.

"This is amazing," Emmett said with a full mouth.

The others ate rather more daintily but were all very complimentary.

"So, dish up. How is it going?" asked Jasper.

"The dancing is going well. I think we'll do fine."

"Glad to hear it, but that's not what he meant and you know it," said Emmett. "Have you fucked her yet?" Unfortunately, I happened to have taken a sip of my wine as he said that, and I almost choked on it.

"Subtlety, Emmett; let's be subtle. Are you getting to know each other?" asked Alice as she patted me on my back to help me recover from the choking.

"That's too subtle Alice; he has to have at least done that. Otherwise Emmett has already lost the bet," commented Rosalie.

Before I could try and discover what this bet was, Bella saved me from further humiliating questions.

"Here are the last of the tapas. The paella will be ready in twenty minutes." Bella sat down next to me and dug into the pan com tomate. "Mmm, this is good. I think I might be quite a good cook."

I was amazed at how well Bella and my family and friends got on. Within an hour we were all eating the scrumptious paella, and it was like she'd always been there.

"So, we're in the middle of the American Smooth in the under 16s final, and Emmett has his arms around me and then spins me out. Suddenly I hear a big rip. Emmett was standing on my dress, and the whole skirt has ripped off! I was standing there in just a top and knickers," said Rosalie.

"What did you do?" Bella asked, fascinated.

"The show must go on! We won."

"Not sure if we won because of the dance or the sight of Rosalie dancing semi-clad," quipped Emmett, "You know, baby, we should recreate that sometime…"

Before any of us could shudder at that thought, we were interrupted when "Yo! I'll tell you what I want…" blasted from the speakers.

"Oh yeah!" Alice screamed and started impersonating Posh Spice. "It's been way too long since I heard this."

"God bless shuffle," commented Bella as she pretended to be Baby Spice. Rosalie did a passable impression of Ginger Spice.

They all danced on my sofa as Jasper took on the role of Sporty Spice and Emmett became Scary Spice. I was terrified by the spectacle but could not turn away as they sang the chorus, "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever; friendship never ends."

It was remarkably apt. Bella had certainly fulfilled that criteria tonight.

Rosalie jumped over to Bella's iPod as _Wannabe _ended and put _2 Become 1_ on. "Shuffle has its moments, but now I need _The Spice Girls_. Care to dance, baby?"

Rosalie and Emmett and Alice and Jasper started generic slow dancing to the awful song. I looked at Bella and realised that I wouldn't care if the music was awful if I had her in my arms. But I didn't. This dance was way more intimate than anything we'd ever danced to before, and as much as I wanted to, I didn't ask Bella to dance.

"Want a drink?" I asked as I chickened out.

"Please!" said Bella too eagerly. I handed her a large glass of wine, and she started drinking it quite quickly. She seemed very tense and uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I just don't particularly like this song."

"Well it's your iPod. Why not change it?"

Bella didn't seem keen on doing it herself, so I walked over to the iPod and changed it myself. _I'm a Believer_ by _The Monkees_ filled the room.

"Better?"

Bella instantly relaxed and grinned. "Much."

"What happened? I was enjoying that," moaned Alice.

"My ears were beginning to bleed," I answered.

"So of all the bands in the whole world, you chose _The Monkees_? I think you need to get your head looked at," commented Jasper.

I dad-danced over to Bella and asked for the dance. We boogied on down to sixties classics until we forgot about time altogether.

"Dude! Its' one a.m. I'm meant to be training from eight. Shit."

"Eight a.m.? On Friday week one? That is desperation. She must be awful," said Jasper.

"She is fine, thank you. Just finds it a bit difficult to concentrate."

"Or turn up for rehearsals," added Rosalie.

"We better get going. Thanks so much for having us," said Emmett. "The food was fucking awesome, Bella."

As I showed Emmett and Rosalie out, Emmett drunkenly appealed to me. "I love this woman, Ed. She is intelligent, funny, hot and most importantly, she can cook. I need that cooking in my life. Marry her, please, for me."

Jasper and Alice left soon afterwards, and Bella and I were left alone.

"Would you like me to drive you to your hotel?" I offered.

"That is a kind offer, but it's illegal. You're bound to be over the blood-alcohol limit; I can't let you drive. Is the underground still running?"

"Even if it was, I wouldn't let you use it."

"I'll call a taxi."

"Bella, that is ludicrous. Why don't you let me repay you the kindness you showed me last week? Stay here tonight," I offered, before hastily adding, "in my spare room."

"Really? I hate to impose."

"You're not imposing. I'll even drop you at your hotel tomorrow before the dress rehearsal so as to avoid the walk of shame."

"Thanks."

"Want another drink?"

"I would love to, but I want to appear reasonably refreshed tomorrow. One drink will inevitably become several, and we'll end up talking until four."

"You're probably right. I'll set your bed up."

I went to sleep that night knowing that Bella was only separated from me by a thin wall.

I slept well until five when I woke up needing a drink. I almost sleep-walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. I found Bella in there as well. She looked shocked to see me.

"Um, Edward, I don't know how to put this. Um… you're naked."

I froze and looked down. When getting out of bed I had clearly been on auto-pilot and had forgotten that Bella was here. I hadn't even put any pants on. I was stark, bollock, naked. I moved my hands to cover my modesty as fast as my drunk state would allow.

"Sorry," I apologised as I worked out how to exit the room without revealing more of myself to a stunned Bella. Was it best to back out or to turn round and let her see my arse?

"No, I should be the one apologising. It's your flat and I'm imposing. See you tomorrow," whispered Bella as she fled. It was almost pitch black, but I could still see her fluorescent blush. Fuck.

I was awoken by the smell of a fry up and coffee. I made sure I was fully dressed and I hesitantly made my way into my kitchen. Bella looked completely at home there until she noticed my presence and turned around.

"Morning, I've made us breakfast," mumbled a bright red Bella. She was looking everywhere except at me.

"I'm so sorry about last night. I was half-asleep and forgot that you were here. There is no excuse. I can't apologise enough."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," joked Bella feebly.

The thought of Bella seeing another man naked was one that I did not want to contemplate, so I quickly repressed it.

"So, what is the plan for today?" asked Bella in an attempt to halt an awkward conversation.

Bella set breakfast down in front of me, and we sat down and ate talking very formally about our timetable for the day. Uncomfortable silences were aplenty. After I finished the beautiful breakfast, I decided to do something about it. I could only think of one way to make her laugh and put this behind us. I opened up my laptop and plugged it into the speakers. Using Spotify, I found _Its Getting Hot in Herre_ by _Nelly_. Bella was finishing her breakfast, but I stood next to her and danced as badly as I could. I even mimed "I am getting so hot, I'm going to take my clothes off," Bella physically stopped me before I could do anything other than expose my abs.

"You're hot, but I've seen enough of your body for at least twenty-four hours. Please keep your shirt on," she pleaded.

I had to confess that I was very pleased that she admitted to finding me attractive. I knew that I was a handsome man, but hearing Bella call me hot was fantastic. I struggled to keep the grin from my face.

"Now you've seen mine, can I see yours?" I asked jokingly.

Bella hit me on the arm. "Twat," she laughed, and just like that, the awkward atmosphere broke.

We spent the morning in the studio fine tuning the routine. Provided Bella trusted herself and didn't get stressed, we would easily get through.

However, I began to get worried when Bella saw the set for the first time. After taking one look around the large studio, she started shaking and having difficulty breathing; she was having a panic attack.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this, Edward," Bella called as she ran out of the studio.

"Bella!" I called to her as I caught up with her.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I can't do this. I really can't do this," cried Bella.

"Yes you can. We've worked really hard on the dance, and it is very good. It is honestly better than any of the other first dances I've had on the show."

"Really?"

"Really. Come on let's have another look at the studio."

Just saying the word studio made Bella freeze. "No. Sorry." And she fled.

Rather than chase after her, I decided to change tack slightly.

I went in search of Ben, one of the cameramen, who I was sure could be of assistance to me.

"Ben, your fiancée is Bella's publicist, right?"

"Yep."

"Bella is having a really bad case of stage fright. I need Angela's help. Can I have her phone number?"

An hour later I was having coffee with Angela in one of the cafés in Television Centre.

"I need your help. How did you ever convince Bella to agree in the first place?" I asked Angela.

"I got her drunk as a stoat."

"Not sure that tactic will be wise when she needs to be co-ordinated. Dancing and alcohol don't mix. Any other suggestions?"

"I also guilted her into it."

"How?"

"Saying how helpful it would be to both our careers, etc."

"Not sure that would work. I think we need to change tactics entirely. I'm going to bring in reinforcements."

Ten minutes later Alice joined us.

"I knew something was up. I can predict the future."

"If you could see into the future, you would have seen this coming months ago. You only knew something was up because Bella and I missed the briefing," I retorted.

"No. I knew something was going to go wrong before that."

"Then why didn't you call and tell me?"

"You wouldn't have believed me."

"You're right there."

"Can we please get over the brother-sister spat? Back to the matter at hand: how are we going to solve our Bella problem?" asked an exasperated Angela.

"Well, I foresee a two-folded approach. First I take her to the salon for a pedicure; her feet will be crazy sore after all the dancing this week, and we get her nice and relaxed. Secondly, we blindfold her and bring her back here where you dance with her in the studio without her knowing. Once she has done it once she'll be fine."

"Good plan in theory but I see one gapping hole – how on earth can we blindfold her and bring her to the studio?" asked Angela.

"That would be where Edward uses his manly wiles."

"I have manly wiles?"

"You have them in spade loads and you know it."

"Will that actually work?" asked Angela.

Alice rolled her eyes, "I thought you'd seen them together. Yes, it will work. Bella would do anything he says."

"Except dance in front of an audience," Angela pointed out.

"Yep, except that," I groaned.

Alice tracked Bella down and then whined at Bella until she submitted to her will. I was told to steer clear of the salon until Alice text me whereupon I would be expected to ambush and blindfold Bella.

I went home and got dressed in a smart suit. I picked up a big bunch of flowers as well. I then waited in my car until I Alice text me, "Go go go go!"

I swiftly made it to the front of the salon and was surprised to see that Bella had a lovely new, choppier haircut and I assumed she had got a pedicure as well.

"Wow. You look gorgeous."

"Thank you. Got a date?" Bella asked as she took in my appearance.

"Well that depends. Would you come to dinner with me?"

"It's only four o'clock."

"I like to start my dinners early. So, is that a no?" I asked, pouting slightly.

Bella seemed a bit flustered. "I'll come," she squeaked.

"Excellent. These flowers are for you." I handed them to her and Bella blushed slightly.

"Thank you. They are beautiful. You shouldn't have."

"That is only the beginning of it. I've got a whole surprise planned for you. In order to make it the best it can be I need you to be blindfolded. Do you mind?"

"No, I trust you. Just don't mess my hair up, it looks good for once." She saw my look of surprise. "What? I can care about how I look. Occasionally."

I laughed and carefully tied a silk scarf that Alice had surreptitiously handed me across her eyes as I whispered, "Your hair always looks good."

Bella giggled and blushed. I felt a bit guilty about leading her on but it was for her own good.

I successfully got her into the car and made it to Television Centre. Now the trouble really started.

Thankfully Alice and Angela had 'foreseen' this problem and turned up to keep any questions at bay and to try and get Bella there without her being any the wiser. Somehow she seemed to trust me and was completely oblivious to any ulterior motives on my part. She just held my hand and followed me. We were close to the door of the studio and she was about to realise that her trust was entirely misplaced.

I opened the door and we walked into the large studio. The camera crew and band were waiting for us I led Bella straight to our starting position.

"I know that you don't want to dance tomorrow and I respect that." I gulped at the huge lie. "But I would like one more dance before we go out separate ways. Is that okay?"

She nodded removed her blindfold. She blinked and froze once she had realised where she was.

"You lying bastard. Did you think lying to me and making me think you liked me would make me more likely to dance with you? I can assure you that the opposite is true. Excuse me." She pushed past me angrily and walked quickly to the exit. I stood with my head in my hands. How had I let Alice talk me into this?

"It's my fault. Not Edward's," Alice called out and Bella stopped.

"What?" snapped Bella as she whirled around and looked venomously at Alice.

"It was my idea. It's all my fault. I talked Edward into it. He thinks you've got a really good chance of doing well. He doesn't want your hard work to go to waste. And, between you and me, he likes hanging out with you and doesn't want it to end. Please at least dance with him. Give it a go. Don't run away."

Bella looked at me and I hung my head in shame. I was about to lose someone who I thought I really cared for. I couldn't bear to watch.

Suddenly someone held my hand.

"That's not your starting position."

I lifted my head up and saw Bella holding my hand. "Come on."

I numbly followed her and we stood in our starting positions. I nodded to the band and _Shining Light_ filled the room. Bella danced far better than I had ever seen before. She practically glided. If I could persuade her to dance the following day we were bound to wow the judges.

I held her in my arms for the final position. "Thank you. Thank you so much," I said, "You did it and you were fantastic. There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about."

"You're just saying that."

"He's not. You were excellent. Check the filming," said Alice as she and Angela walked towards us.

"It was filmed?"

"Forget about the cameras. You were brilliant," said Angela.

Bella looked very doubtful and I thought that the film could be of benefit to us. I had a quite word with the producer and a few minutes later we were sat in front of the producers screen watching our dance. It was good, for a first week it was bloody fantastic. I just hoped Bella could keep her nerves in check tomorrow.

As Bella watched she looked dumbstruck, her mouth was slightly agape and she wasn't blinking.

"Is that really us?" she whispered.

"Yep."

"We're quite good."

"We're excellent."

"Do you think we can do that tomorrow?"

"We can do even better."

She finally looked away from the screen and grinned at me. "Thank you so much." With that she enveloped me in a tight hug. I think I was forgiven.

* * *

A/N: Is there a song you think that Edward and Bella need to dance to? I'm open for suggestions for ballroom dances, kitchen dances and everything in between. Classics are preferred but I'm also open to more obscure songs. I particularly seem to be lacking in songs sung by men…

Have a look on my profile for a link to my Spotify playlist of all songs used and yet to be used in Publicity Shy and information about the places mentioned.

Glossary

Babber: A friend/baby (doesn't suggest that the person is a baby…). A Bristolian term of endearment.

Bollocks: Literally means testicles. However, more commonly used to mean damn (as it is here).

Dad-dance: To dance like a father would at a wedding. Very badly. In this case it is ironic.

Foodie: Someone who is obsessed with good food.

Fry up: A full English breakfast. Eggs (usually scrambled or fried), sausages, bacon, baked beans, toast, fried mushrooms and black pudding (blood sausage).

Pants: In the UK pants are underpants, not trousers. This could get confusing for the non-Brits reading…

Spotify: An online music library available in the UK. Like iTunes but free. If you can't access it you should be jealous. It is awesome.

Tad: A bit.

Tube: British slang for the London subway system.

Underground: The London subway system.


	5. Showtime

A/N: Two chapters in one week. Go me! And the next one is almost ready to go to the betas too. I'll try and keep the pace of uploads up.

Rodeomom_95 and voluptuousvamp of Project Team Beta were my very helpful betas. Thank you so much.

There is a glossary at the bottom to help explain some British references. Please use or you may be a bit confused…

Alas, Stephanie Meyer owns all characters.

Chapter 5: Showtime

I didn't recognise the person staring at me in the mirror. She looked like a prom queen wannabe. Her hair was pinned to her head in a large messy bun and she was covered in bronzer. The dress looked like it had been present when a bomb went off in a glitter factory. It had a strapless, sparkly bodice that clung to her until it hit her bottom. The skirt was ruched light grey chiffon. I didn't look at all like me. I had studiously avoided my prom in the first place and certainly did not wish to look like I was about to attend one now. It all felt wrong. I felt wrong. _Why was I here?_

I was trying really hard not to freak out. After my major bout of stage fright yesterday I was determined to not let Edward, Alice or Angela help me calm down. Edward was right, we had put way too much time and effort into it to give up now, and it was a bloody good dance. So, no matter what, I would dance.

Pete and the regulars at The Red Lion had sent me a picture message of the pub. They'd decked it out with 'Vote Bella and Edward' banners. I really appreciated it and for a minute it helped distract me from the actual prospect of dancing on national TV, but soon enough I remembered what I was about to do and was terrified again.

I had half an hour before the show started, so I decided to relax by doing some yoga. I was in the downward-facing dog position when I heard the door open and a gasp.

"Bella's being doing yoga for years, Edward. She is very flexible. I've seen her put her legs behind her head. When she worked at Scouting she had a yoga badge. All the girls wanted to get with her," Renee helpfully informed Edward. I internally cringed as I stood up and my face turned fuchsia. Edward looked quite shocked.

"Mother!"

"Bella! I can't believe I had to find out that you were going to be on the show through a magazine. But I forgive you because it's so exciting. My daughter is a celebrity! And you look so beautiful. Doesn't she Edward?" squealed Renee as she ran over and enveloped me in a hug as soon as I had stood up.

"Yes, she does," Edward responded.

"Mum! Let's tone it down a bit. I see you've met Edward."

"Yes, I was sitting in the studio with the audience when I saw Edward. I had to go over and introduce myself. I persuaded him that seeing me before the show would help you relax." _Well you managed the opposite. Thanks._

"Thanks so much, Edward. It was really kind of you to bring my mother over, but don't we have to make our way to the studio now?" I looked him in the eyes and tried to convey that I needed to get rid of my mother.

He seemed to read my mind. "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry, Renee, but we have to go for a last minute pep talk."

"Okay. Good luck. I'm so excited! I'm about to see my daughter dance on national TV! Oh, I almost forgot! The boys at Scouting and I made a glittery banner with your names on it that I was going to wave in front of the camera, but the producers confiscated it." _Thank fuck._ "They send their love and have everything crossed!"

Renee enveloped me in a big hug and hung on like a limpet. I had to pry myself away.

"Bye, Mum, we'll see you afterwards." Edward and I rushed away. "I'm so sorry you had to put up with my mum."

"She was no trouble."

"Really?"

"Really. We ran into Alice and they truly hit it off. I just stood there and let them talk nineteen to the dozen."

"Thanks also for making up a way for us to get out. It is always good to have an exit strategy when it comes to my mum…"

"We do need to get going anyway. There is a pre-show briefing. By the way, you look stunning." I couldn't help but blush in response.

Edward was dressed in a slim cut black suit with a thin tie and it suited him very well. "And you look dashing." His blush matched mine.

We walked to the green room and I saw the other dancers and crew crammed in. All the dancers were dressed very fashionably and looked stunning. Frankly they looked more like supermodels than dancers. I couldn't help but feel like the ugly duckling.

"Can I have everyone's attention please," yelled the producer. "We're live in fifteen minutes and I just wanted us to have a quick inspirational talk before we go out. As you know, we've been involved in a big ratings war with X Factor for years and this year we _will_ win it. So we've updated the wardrobe and you're all wearing the latest evening wear. You all look fabulous. We've also got better guest acts - The Saturdays are playing whilst voting. But most importantly, we need to beat them at their own game. They're all about the emotion - 'I've had such a bad life, pity me, blah blah blah.' I'm not asking for you to spill your guts but put emotion into your dancing and your interactions with each other.

"We are better than them and we can get more viewers than them. Go out there and dance your hearts out." He paused with a wicked glint in his eye. "Oh, if any of you fancy having a sex scandal, please go ahead and I'll leak it to the press." _Was this guy serious? _Everyone looked a bit nonplussed and he quickly added, "Just kidding! Mostly. Anyway, let's make this the best series of _Strictly_ ever. Good luck!"

The next ten minutes were a whirlwind of make-up retouches, being poked, prodded and miked up. Before I knew it, Edward and I were standing in a line of couples backstage waiting for the show to go live and for us to be introduced. It was really happening.

Edward was holding my hand tightly and reassuring me, but I was only just aware of it. I was vaguely conscious of the theme tune being played. The other couples before and after us were dancing to it in an attempt to conceal their nerves. I made absolutely no effort to hide my anxiety.

"Live from London this is _Strictly Come Dancing_ bringing the sparkle back into your Saturday nights. Please welcome your hosts Bruce Forsyth and Tess Daly," the voice over announced. Bruce, a tall man who should have retired years ago, and Tess, a statuesque blonde who could give Rosalie a run for her money, walked down the stairs and did their ridiculous dance.

"Oh, thought we'd forgotten how to do that!" joked Tess.

"I think my hip did. Anyone got some oil? Anyway, nice to see you, to see you…" yelled Bruce.

"NICE!" The audience responded.

"It's so nice to see you Brucie, it's been too long," bantered Tess.

"It's been so long I had to dust myself and my jokes off backstage! I think we should get started right away, lets meet the stars of our show," said Brucie.

"Couple number one, Neighbours actor James Kelly and his dance partner, Alice Whitlock." They walked down the stairs elegantly and stood on the dance floor waiting for the rest of us to be announced and join them.

"Couple number two, marathon runner Seth Clarke and his dance partner, Victoria Morgan." Seth and Victoria walked down the stairs and lined up next to James and Alice.

"Couple number three, glamour model Lauren Mallory and her dance partner, Emmett McCarty."

"Couple number four, newsreader Peter Trelawny and his dance partner, Tanya Palin." A handsome man in his thirties with white blond hair accompanied Tanya down the stairs.

"Couple number five, Big Brother winner Kate Lewis and her dance partner, Laurent Perot."

At this point I was on the verge of hyperventilating when Edward whispered in my ear, "We can do this. I know you can do this, love."

The term of endearment certainly shocked me out of my hyperventilation just in time for us to be announced. I put my hand in the crook of his arm as I had been shown. Unlike when we rehearsed, Edward grasped that hand in his and stroked it. Edward walked us out to the top of the stairs and we stood and smiled whilst we were introduced.

"Couple number six, best-selling author Isabella Swan and her dance partner, Edward Cullen."

I tried to remember to smile and not look as terrified as I felt. Miraculously, I made it to the bottom of the stairs without tripping. We then joined the line and Edward stood behind me with his hands on my hips. I clapped along to the music as the other couples were introduced. I was shaking with fear and yet trying to cover it up by swaying. However it did not fool Edward who noticed and whispered in my ear, "You're doing great, love." There was that word again and it did help me stop shaking quite so much.

"Couple number seven, Politician Sir Michael Newton and his dance partner, Charlotte Dixie." Sir Michael looked very smug at having a beautiful petite blonde on his arm.

"Couple number eight, pop star Jessica Stanley and her dance partner, Jasper Whitlock."

"Couple number nine, Emmerdale actress Leah Clearwater and her dance partner, Sam Uley."

"And our final couple of this evening, couple number ten, Formula One racing driver Jacob Black and his dance partner, Rosalie Hale." A handsome British-Asian man walked Rosalie down the stairs.

"Don't they all look smashing? The dresses are fantastic," commented Tess.

"They do indeed, Tess."

"Tonight our ten brand new couples will be dancing either the Viennese Waltz or the Cha-cha-cha for you. They're hoping to impress the judges and win your votes. The judges' scores will be added to the votes they get from our audience at home and the two couples with the lowest score will be in the dreaded dance-off." The audience booed. "We've got a lot to get through tonight so let's get started."

"Our first couple is James Kelly and Alice Whitlock who will be dancing the Cha-cha-cha. If James does anything wrong, it's because he is from Down Under and doesn't have as much blood rushing to his head as he is used to…" The audience tittered politely. "Here they are in training…" introduced Bruce.

Thankfully we were then able to flee the dance floor. As soon as we were out of the studio, Edward whisked me away from the rest of the dancers and gave me a big hug. "You're doing great, love. Just great. It'll all be over soon enough."

We watched James and Alice dance and he did remarkably well. He let Alice do all the showy stuff and his hips were a bit off, but his rhythm was reasonable. He was certainly better than I was bound to be.

But then I saw him touch Alice's arse…

I sat on one of the sofas in the green room next to Rose who kept squirming. "These new costumes may look good but they were not designed to be danced in. They're too snug. It's a bloody good thing I'm doing the waltz and not a Latin dance otherwise I wouldn't be able to move."

"Mine is tighter than I'd like it to be as well," I commented.

"We should go back to proper dancing dresses. Not these gorgeous designer numbers," Rose replied.

We were distracted by the dance ending.

"That was lovely, a good start to the series. While you get your breath back I'll introduce the judges," said Bruce. "Head of the judging panel we have Len Goodman," he pointed to a large balding man in his mid sixties. "and we also have Craig Revel Horwood," the camera panned to a tall tanned man in his forties with brown hair. "Alesha Dixon," a curvy mixed race woman in her early thirties, "and last but by no mean least, Bruno Tolioni." the screen showed a short Italian man in his early forties.

Alesha praised James' cheeky facial expressions, but Craig wondered where his hips were.

Len however had the most stinging criticism. "The Cha-cha-cha should be cheeky but James you took it to extremes. You were more hands on than you should've been. More than once I saw your hand was on Alice's bottom rather than her back. Make sure your hands are where they are supposed to be."

Alice and James came into the green room for judging and we clapped supportively when they were awarded 4, 5, 6, 6.

As soon as the TV cameras had moved back to the studio, Jasper moved faster than I thought was possible to James' side.

"While I accept that because Alice is a dancer other men will inevitably touch her, no man is allowed to touch her arse. Keep your hands where they are supposed to be. Never grope my wife again. If you do so, I will know and I will ensure that you are never able to do it again."

"She loved feeling my hands on her. She was _begging_ for it all week," James bragged, bringing his face up close to Jaspers.

Alice had noticed the fracas and had come over to intervene just in time to hear what James had said.

"Really, James? I believe I repeatedly told you to keep your hands to yourself and then read you the BBC's sexual harassment rules. The only man's hands that I beg to have on me are Jasper's and that is the way it will always be. Touch me inappropriately again and I will enact those rules," warned Alice.

"And I will fucking kill you," added Jasper.

"I think I can take you on - you pansy dancer," James claimed, stepping closer to Jasper.

"Oh really? Grew up wrestling crocodiles did you?" asked Jasper.

"I can handle myself."

"You'd need to with me. I'm a fucking black belt."

"Want to take this outside?" asked James.

Thankfully, Edward stepped in at that point. "There are cameras and microphones everywhere and you really don't want this to get out. So, I think you two should cool it for the moment. If you want to fight it out, go somewhere away from the cameras. And for what it's worth, James, keep your hands off my sister because if you do that again, you'll have me to deal with as well as Jasper." With that, Edward dragged Jasper and Alice as far away from James as possible. They immediately snapped out of it and started supporting Victoria and Seth who were dancing next.

I eagerly watched them dance and you could see Seth's nerves, but despite that he did quite well. However Alesha questioned his acting abilities, "The waltz is a dance of love, but I didn't believe that you were in love with Victoria. You need to focus on that for next week." Once they'd been scored 4, 6, 5, 5, Seth sat down next to me and let out a big huff. "Thank God that's over for another week. If I get through, that is."

"You did really well," I encouraged.

"No, I didn't. I stuffed up several moves," Seth responded.

"But you did it. Just try and be more romantic next time."

"Romantic? It's amazing that we're both still alive. We've been at each other's throats all week," Seth admitted.

"Then you may be in dire need of acting lessons. You should ask James or Leah for acting lessons." Seth's face crumpled in distaste at James' name. "You'd be doing the women a service in keeping him away from us for a while."

We were diverted from our conversation by watching Emmett and Lauren dancing the Cha-cha-cha. Everyone was watching with undisguised horror. Lauren clearly didn't understand how the idea of being cheeky was different in ballroom dancing from that of glamour modelling. She was showing her tits off as much as possible and winking at the camera. She was concentrating far more on the camera than the dance itself and kept forgetting her steps. It was a totally embarrassing train wreck. I wanted to look away but my head wouldn't co-operate.

"I'm speechless," was all Bruce managed to say and the judges were temporarily dumbstruck too.

"I'm lost for words! And that doesn't happen very often!" cried a horrified Bruno, but Lauren was completely oblivious and was smiling thinking that she'd done a great job. "It was like watching the ballroom dancing version of page 3!"

Bruno was right, the only differences between page 3 and this dance was that Lauren was fully clothed and it was not printed in the Sun newspaper for borderline illiterate men to salivate over.

"You tried hard, but I think you need to concentrate more on the dancing and less on the cameras," added Len kindly. Lauren still seemed to be ignorant of how badly she had danced. Emmett, however, was not unaware and was looking entirely shamefaced.

"There is no sugar-coating it. Your footwork was completely wrong, and you kept forgetting the dance moves and having to catch up. You spent 90% of your time flirting with the camera and not actually dancing," Craig informed her. The penny finally dropped and you could see Lauren's face fall. "I'm sorry, but it was rubbish."

"But the dancing that you did do was quite good. I think there is hope," encouraged Alesha in a desperate attempt to stop Lauren from crying.

"Why don't you two run along and see Tess," suggested Bruce so that Lauren would have a few moments to pull herself together.

It didn't work, and Lauren was weeping as she received a score of 1, 2, 3, 2, which was the joint worst score anyone has ever received. She was consoled by Tess and Jessica whilst Peter and Tanya started their waltz.

Thankfully, their waltz was uneventful and they received a respectable score 6, 7, 7, 6.

Kate and Laurent were up next and then it was my turn. I had deliberately been trying to forget about what was to come, but now I could ignore it no longer. Edward stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders as we watched Kate and Laurent's passable Cha-cha-cha. Soon enough they were awarded 5, 5, 7, 6 and it was our turn.

We stood in front of the camera, and I tried to not let my nerves show too much.

"Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen are up next. Isabella has had a really bad case of stage fright. She asked me yesterday how I deal with it and I told her 'Dutch courage'. To which she replied, 'I'd drain the whole of Holland.' But she's here tonight so wish her luck. Here they are in rehearsals," Bruce introduced us, and I struggled not to roll my eyes at the appalling joke.

They played some excerpts of our rehearsals, which included me with my head between my legs because I was dizzy from all the twirls-they had edited out my swearing-and Edward's solution to the dizziness. I had grown too used to ignoring the cameras and hadn't even been aware that they were there most of the time.

I zoned out part of the way through the rehearsal video and just focused on my breathing and not hyperventilating. Edward was whispering something in my ear but I was too wrapped up in my counting my breaths to pay any attention.

The video finished and Edward tenderly kissed me on the forehead and told me he believed in me. It had been years since someone had been that affectionate towards me and it knocked me for six. I forgot about being nervous and about counting my breaths and just looked into Edward's eyes and smiled.

"Will Isabella Swan and her dance partner Edward Cullen please take to the floor to dance the Viennese Waltz," the voiceover announced.

Edward took my hand and led me to our starting positions. I stood tall and proud and we began to dance. I forgot about the audience entirely and focused on Edward, dancing only for him. Twirling around with him just felt magical, and I had never felt more connected to him. All too soon Edward dipped me and the dance was over. People were applauding and our bubble was broken. Edward pulled me up and whispered into my ear, "You did it! That was amazing."

"We did it," I corrected.

We made our way to the judges with me holding onto Edward for dear life.

"Well that was fabulous! Well done you two," commented Bruce, "Let's go to Craig first."

"Brave and unusual choice of music. But you made it tender, romantic and modern. A few technical faults, Bella. You need to make sure not to bow your legs, but for a first week it was excellent."

"Praise from Craig! Very impressive. Bruno?" asked Bruce.

"The chemistry between you two is astounding. I really believed you two were in love. It was wonderful!"

"I think you're a bit jealous, Bruno. Len?"

"It was graceful, fluid and understated. There was no drama there, it felt truthful. If you two are this good in the first week, I think you'll go far in the competition."

"Thank you," I whispered. By this point I was struggling to stand up I was so astounded and emotional. It felt like a dream.

"Alesha, what is your opinion?"

"You brought the waltz bang up-to-date, and did it so well, hats off to you both. I can't wait to see what else you come up with."

"Well done you two. Go over to Tess to receive your scores."

My legs were shaking and I couldn't walk fast enough, so Edward swept me up in his arms and carried me over to the green room and put me down next to Tess.

"Are you alright? You're shaking," she asked when she saw me.

"I'm just a bit shocked. My legs weren't working properly."

"As long as you're okay, darling. You did really well. Let's get the results."

"Will the judges please reveal their scores. Craig Revel Horwood," decreed the voiceover.

"Eight."

"Len Goodman."

"Eight."

My legs gave way and Edward looked at me very concerned as he was suddenly required to support my weight. When he saw that I hadn't fainted and was smiling widely he chuckled and matched my smile.

"Alesha Dixon."

"Eight."

"Bruno Tolioni."

"Eight."

"So that's 32 out of 40. Fantastic. I hope you can keep it up," encouraged Tess.

"So do we. We certainly will keep up the hard work," said Edward as he gave me big hug.

"But even that score isn't enough to ensure they'll dance again next week. Call 09015 22 23 06 when lines open later on to try and get them back next week. They certainly want to be back. Over to you Bruce."

It was finally sinking in and I was starting to recover from my shock. Around me people were coming to congratulate us but I was still lost in my own little world.

Sir Michael roused me with his attempt at the Cha-cha-cha. He was mauling poor Charlotte. He looked lecherous. Charlotte was doing her best but it was plainly obvious that Latin, at least, was not his forte. He was red in the face and concentration was etched on his face. In his defence he was better than Lauren, but that didn't say much. After his cocky attitude when I first met him, it was quite nice to see him struggling. I should have been ashamed to think that, but I wasn't.

The judges certainly had a good time judging him.

"You dance like a drunken uncle at a wedding. Hilarious but disastrous," was Len's succinct appraisal.

"Watch out, watch out, Sir Michael's about!" screeched Bruno.

"Technically, you did a few things right and you certainly put a lot of effort in. However, your posture needs to be improved and you need to work on your footwork. And your timing was a bit off. Having said that, you're not the worst we've seen tonight," comforted Craig.

Unlike Lauren, Sir Michael did realise that he hadn't done terribly well but he seemed upbeat anyway. Even when he got 3, 4, 4, 4 as a score. At least it wasn't the worst score so far.

Jasper and Jessica were the next up to dance, and they did a very good waltz, even if their 6, 7, 7, 8 meant that it wasn't as good as ours. _It felt so good to think that_. _I'm embracing my bitchy side_.

Leah and Sam were the penultimate couple and they danced quite a raunchy Cha-cha-cha. They'd been very close backstage and it really seemed like something may have been going on between them. Alice was bound to know the gossip and so I made a mental note to ask her about it.

Their natural chemistry did not go unnoticed by the judges either.

"Does anyone have a fire extinguisher? These two are smouldering!" yelled Bruno.

"While there were some technical errors – Leah, your posture wasn't perfect and in places your timing was off – you certainly _ahem_ embraced _ahem_ the feeling of the dance," commented Craig.

They got a very respectable 7, 6, 7, 7.

The last couple were Jacob and Rose who both looked quite smug while they prepared to do their waltz, and rightly so. They appeared to glide across the dance floor until Jacob trod on Rose's foot. After a slight wince, her face regained its previous smile but I had a feeling that Jacob would be in trouble for that once they were backstage.

But the judges told Jacob off before Rose had a chance.

"Well hello, Bigfoot. Does having big feet help you drive? because it sure as hell doesn't help you dance," stated Bruno.

"How is your toe? He is a big bloke," asked Alesha.

"I don't think it's broken," replied Rose.

"Besides the whole foot incident, you danced very well. You were really graceful for such a big bloke, but you need to work on your footwork and more specifically where your feet should not be," said Len.

Rose was noticeably hobbling when they left the stage for the green room to be given their scores. As soon they had received their 6, 7, 7, 7 and the cameras had focussed their attention on the main studio, Rosalie sat down quickly, removed her microphone and one of her shoes. Her big toe was fast turning purple.

"Fuck! Can someone please get me a bucket of ice, ibuprofen and some arnica cream? And none of that shitty homeopathic arnica either, I need industrial strength!"

Emmett sent Jacob off to find said supplies and a medic. He then went and picked her up and carried her backstage away from prying cameras.

I heard him whisper "fucking bigfoot," as he carried her away.

Now that everyone had danced and the phone lines were open, we waited nervously for the results. I was desperately hoping that I had danced all I needed to this week and would not be in the dance-off. Soon enough _The Saturdays_ had performed, Victoria and Laurent had demonstrated the Rumba, a behind-the-scenes section had been shown, and we were standing on the stage underneath a spotlight awaiting the announcement of the results.

"Ten couples danced either the Viennese Waltz or the Cha-cha-cha tonight and we can now reveal the results," announced Tess.

"Your votes have been counted and independently verified. They've been added to the judges scores and we're about to announce which two couples have the lowest combined scores," Bruce read off the autocue.

"Those two couples must impress the judges in the dance-off to save their place in the competition. This is the moment of truth."

Tension building music began and my heart started beating erratically. In the past week I had really started to enjoy dancing, and I was surprised to find myself not wanting it to end so soon. I silently prayed to the god of ballroom dancing to give me a bit more time with Edward.

"In no particular order, here are the couples that are safe. If your name is read out you'll definitely stay in the competition. The first couple through is… Peter and Tanya," Bruce revealed. They both breathed a sigh of relief and hugged each other.

"Also through are… Kate and Laurent," said Tess.

"Joining them are… Bella and Edward." _Thank you god of ballroom dancing_.

I let out a breath that I had been holding and turned around to look at Edward. He embraced me and had a huge smile on his face.

"I'm afraid you've got me for another week," he aplogised.

"It's a hardship I'll have to endure." With that, he hugged me so tight that he lifted me off the ground and twirled me round. When he put me down, he planted a tender kiss on my forehead. Our spotlight was turned off and they continued the torturous reading of results.

"We're now down to three couples. The last couple to definitely remain in the competition is…" The three couples still stood underneath a spotlight were Seth and Victoria, Emmett and Lauren, and Alice and James. I got on well with Seth and so I was really hoping he'd get through. I was really disappointed when Bruce finished his sentence with "James and Alice!"

Alice didn't turn around to celebrate, but James leaned in very close and whispered something into her ear. A look of disgust was temporarily on Alice's face before she covered it up with a smile. James was also pulling her closer to him, and appeared to grind his crotch into her bottom. What a creep. I really felt for Alice. She had a smile plastered on her face but I could tell from her eyes that she was far from happy.

"So Seth and Victoria, Lauren and Emmett, please come and join me if you will," requested Bruce. "In a moment both couples will perform again and they have just one chance to persuade our judges that they should stay in the competition. Seth and Victoria danced first so they will be dancing first now, so take your positions and I wish both couples good luck."

As Lauren had been terrible where Seth had been passable, I was fairly confident that Seth would make it through, but I felt very sorry for him to be put in that position. He actually danced better than before and it did look slightly more like he was in love with Victoria, so I hoped that he'd done enough to get through.

Unfortunately, Lauren improved a bit as well. While she still looked at the cameras, she concentrated more on her dancing than before and stuffed up fewer moves. But Seth was better, and the judges should have been able to see that.

Once Lauren and Emmett had danced, Seth and Victoria came back onto the dance floor and they stood close to one another.

"Well done both couples. Now there is only one place left in _Strictly Come Dancing_. One of you must leave the competition for good. It's decision time," said Tess.

"Judges, we're about to ask each of you who you think deserves to be saved. The couple with the most votes will be back next week. In the event of a tie, head judge Len Goodman gets the deciding vote. Lauren and Emmett, Seth and Victoria, you can do no more. You've all worked so hard. Good luck to you all.

"Craig, which couple are you going to save?" Bruce asked.

"Both couples really tried but I think this celebrity has more natural talent. So I'm saving Seth and Victoria."

"Alesha, who would you like to keep in _Strictly Come Dancing_?"

"Deciding in week one is really tough. Neither of you have had much of a chance yet. But I have to go on what I've seen, and so I'm going to save Seth and Victoria.

"Bruno, who are you going to save?"

"This week it is quite a simple choice, I'm afraid. I'm saving Seth and Victoria."

Seth and Victoria smiled, hugged each other and the _Strictly_ theme tune came on and they then moved on to give a commiseration hug to Emmett and Lauren.

"Seth and Victoria are through, but unfortunately, that means that Emmett and Lauren will be leaving the competition."

"I'm so sorry that you didn't have the chance to be around for longer. We would have loved to have got to know you better."

"There is one last dance for you two, so why don't you get onto the dance floor?"

Emmett and Lauren took to the dance floor whilst Bruce and Tess informed the audience about what was happening next week.

I wasn't surprised that they had been the ones to leave, but I was sorry that I'd be seeing less of Emmett. Thankfully, as a professional he'd still be around to demonstrate dances and he was bound to come and cheer Rosalie on, so I knew I hadn't seen the last of him.

Emmett and Lauren did a few turns around the dance floor before she decided to pout and pose for the camera yet again all by herself. Then all of the remaining contestants, including Edward and myself, joined them on the dance floor to wish them farewell.

I stood on the dance floor, perfunctorily performing the goodbyes whilst in actuality I was looking around at the stage that I was beginning to hope I would be seeing every week for a while to come. Was I beginning to enjoy _Strictly_?

A/N:

Please review. Pretty please.

Glossary

Dutch courage: Drinking alcohol in an attempt to not feel so nervous.

Glamour model: Someone who models her body rather than the clothes (if she is indeed wearing any). Likely to appear on page 3 (see below) and in lads mags.

Page 3: The Sun newspaper always has a topless woman on page 3. It is not a good newspaper.

X Factor: Simon Cowell's latest pop manufacturing TV show. A lot like American Idol except that bands are allowed as well as soloists. Coming to the US soon…


	6. Revelations

**A/N: Just to warn you there is a lot of British slang coming up in this chapter. There is a glossary at the bottom to translate, but if in doubt the likelihood is that word means drunk.**

My lovely betas for this chapter were rodeomom_95 and mcc101180.

Alas, Stephanie Meyer owns all the characters.

* * *

**EPOV**

I pushed my erection against her bottom. My left hand cupped her breast; I started massaging it and tweaking her nipple. I was rewarded with a low moan. My other hand travelled down her toned stomach and below her trousers. As I fingered her I could feel how wet she was. I pressed my thumb against her clit and dipped a finger inside her. She groaned again and pushed back against my hard cock.

I loved this dream. I'd been having it ever since I met Bella. It always featured her in her sexy pyjamas.

Her body suddenly tensed up in my arms. That hadn't happened before. Ah well, change kept things fresh, even in dreams. I continued my ministrations in an attempt to relax her.

"Edward."

She was calling out my name in an entirely different tone from usual. I ignored it and continued.

"Edward!"

Her voice still didn't sound right.

"EDWARD!" Her hands grasped mine and stilled them.

What was happening? This never normally happened.

"Edward. Wake the fuck up and stop molesting me."

Now it was me who was tense. I slowly opened my left eye and saw a very real Bella in my arms.

"Fuck. Where am I?" I quickly distanced myself from her, sat up and looked around. I had sat up too quickly causing my head to throb and the room to swim. I lay back down again in an attempt to still the world. _Did I sleep with Bella last night? If I had, it is a real shame I don't remember it._

"My hotel room. You got wankered last night and couldn't drive home. And then you decided to grope me."

"Shit. I thought it was a dream. I'm so fucking sorry," I apologised.

"Do you have sex dreams about me often?" Bella asked archly.

_Every night_. "Is there any way for me to answer that without either further sexually harassing you or suggesting you are not attractive enough to feature in those kind of dreams?"

"I'm going to have a shower. Can you please be dressed and away from my bed when I get out?"

I got up and dressed quickly, amazed that Bella was being so relaxed about this. I just had my hand in her dripping pussy. I brought the lucky hand up to my nose and sniffed. It smelled beautiful. I then licked my fingers. Delicious. I now had a raging hard-on that needed dealing with.

I quickly released my cock from my boxers and got to work. I was close when I heard some groans remarkably similar to the ones I had heard earlier, only this time coming from the bathroom. Fuck. She was finishing herself off. I continued pumping away until I heard a cry of pure pleasure, and I came the moment after Bella did.

I was undeniably attracted to this woman. Everyone could see it. Even the judges noticed it. How much longer could I continue pretending I wasn't? How much longer before I gave into the attraction and kissed and groped her whilst fully conscious?

I was dressed and away from the bed when Bella came out of the shower wrapped only in a towel. I was immediately hard again. Was she trying to kill me?

"Forgot to take any clothes in with me," she apologised.

"So, can I take you to brunch to thank you for letting me stay last night and to apologise for my ungentlemanly behaviour this morning?" I asked.

"I do think you owe me. How much do you remember about last night?"

"Not much. I didn't do anything last night, did I?"

"Others did worse. Come on, I'll tell you over brunch."

Oh dear. That didn't sound good.

Half an hour later, I had a double espresso and a full English breakfast in front of me, and I was bracing myself for the recollections of last night.

"So, what do you remember?" Bella asked before taking a bite of her healthier brunch of wholemeal toast, scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.

"The last memory I have is of doing tequila shots at that nightclub," I responded.

"Alright, so you remember that all competitors and lots of the crew were at the nightclub celebrating how well the first episode went." I nodded. "Quite a lot of drinks were being consumed, and you were one of the heavier drinkers. A lot of drunken dancing/fondling was taking place. Peter and Charlotte looked quite close, but the real gossip of the evening comes from Sam and Leah."

"What did they do?"

"Alice found them shagging in the ladies' loo!"

"So soon? It usually takes a few weeks for people to start shagging on _Strictly_."

"They were totally unembarrassed about it. Sam had Leah's lipstick on his collar and Leah had sex hair."

"I wish I could remember that. Had I done anything embarrassing yet?" I cringed, concerned.

"No, but you did impress the crowd with a very good Michael Jackson impression. Your moonwalk is excellent."

"I'm glad you liked it, but I feel you're avoiding telling me something. What did I do?"

"Emmett challenged you to a drinking competition," Bella informed me, raising an eyebrow.

Oh dear. I had never won one of those. This story was bound to get worse. "What did I do next?" That was a mistake.

"You were more smashed than he was already, and he is twice your size. You were shitfaced by the time I managed to drag you away. I got our coats, and we left the club only to be met by a sea of paparazzi; it turns out that someone had tipped them off about the _Strictly_ presence in the club. I was propping you up while you were groping me and trying to get us to pose for the cameras." Bella did her best to remain neutral and lessen the embarrassment.

"I didn't say anything to the paparazzi, did I?"

"Um…" Bella bit her lip and a sense of dread filled me.

"What did I say?"

"You were very complimentary of me."

She was avoiding something, and I had an idea what it may be. "All of you or a particular aspect of you?"

"It covered mostly my dancing abilities, my brain and my personality, but I think you may have mentioned my exterior as well."

"I'm sure I meant every word of it," I replied honestly.

"That is very kind of you, but I don't think you were in a position to make those judgements."

"So, back to the story. Paparazzi."I needed to get this over as soon as possible.

"I tried to hail a taxi, but the one that pulled up refused to take you. Clearly you couldn't drive, and neither could I, so I had no choice but to walk you the short distance to my hotel room so you could sleep it off. We went up to my room, and I left you standing up in the middle of it. I left to get you some water and when I came back with a glass, you were fast asleep in the middle of the bed, and not the sofa as intended."

"Sorry. How did I get undressed?"

"I removed your trousers to make you feel more comfortable, and you roused yourself enough to remove your t-shirt. You also started to remove your boxers but I managed to stop you."

"I'm so sorry I put you through that."

"That's what friends are for." Bella smiled at me and I sensed that all was forgiven.

"I wonder what the papers will say."

"I dread to think."

**BPOV**

Edward and I were sat in his living room recuperating from our hangovers and discussing our musical options for the week.

"Going for an unusual song worked well for us with the waltz, so I think we should do that again," Edward suggested.

"Definitely. What sort of song do we want to use?" I asked.

"The rumba is a slow but sexy dance, and we need a song like that."

"Do we want to be naughty or nice?" I asked with a cheeky smile.

"Excuse me?"

"If you want naughty, 'Bad Things' by Jace Everett or if you want something nice, 'If You're Not The One' by Daniel Bedingfield."

"A bit of Bedingfield is good, but clichéd. Last week, we avoided clichés, and it worked in our favour. I think we should have a blanket ban on clichés."

"Agreed." I accepted and we shook on it.

"Anyway, naughty sounds so much more fun. 'Bad Things' is a great song. How about 'Loser' by Beck?"

"Excellent choice. 'In These Shoes?' by Kirsty MacColl?"

"'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk' by Rufus Wainwright."

"Superb song. That could well be a winner. Or we could surprise everyone by doing our own version of a well-known song - one that you couldn't rumba to before we rejig it. You have a piano and a guitar over there, so I have to assume that you play. Are you good enough to be able to slow down 'Just Can't Get Enough'?" I smiled at him hopefully.

"I don't like to subject people to my poor attempts at playing," Edward responded, looking slightly shy.

"Am I people, or am I more than that? Anyway, you've been subjected to my poor attempts at dancing."

"I'm sorry, but my music is for me only."

"Why?"

Edward paused and looked uncomfortable. Finally he took a deep breath and succinctly filled me in, "I was the lead singer in a band at school. We entered the local battle of the bands and got bottled off the stage. It scarred me physically and mentally. I've never played for anyone since."

"You allowed the critique of some idiot teenagers, who probably thought that Peter Andre was the best singer ever, to control your music? Every band has bad gigs; they just get back into the saddle and get over it."

"I was knocked unconscious."

"Shit. But perhaps now you should grab the bull by the horns. I will eagerly listen and will not make any judgements. If you are nervous you can play 'Chopsticks' or 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' for all I care. Play something, anything," I encouraged.

"I don't know…" Edward still looked dubious.

"When you were coaxing me out of being shy about dancing, you forced me to do it straight away, and you did not judge at all. Then you made me dance in front of Pete and the regulars to, metaphorically, put two fingers up at them. You made me face my critics. You may not be able to do that, but you can certainly stop them from controlling you."

"Why do I get the feeling you're not going to give up?"

"Because I'm not. So, what will it be? 'Chopsticks' or 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'?"

Edward huffed, walked over to his baby grand piano and sat down. "Well, if I'm being forced to do this I may as well do it properly." He started to play and sing.

"_When I'm with you baby, I go out of my head__  
__And I just can't get enough, I just can't get enough__  
__All the things you do to me and everything you said__  
__And I just can't get enough, I just can't get enough."_

I was mesmerised with Edward's deep, beautiful and unusual baritone that was somewhere between Johnny Cash and Rufus Wainwright. The song was completely transformed by Edward - he not only slowed it right down but also made it soulful. He knocked Depeche Mode down to size. It was no longer a disco tune and was now a song to make love to - a song to rumba to. It was beautiful. I felt honoured to have heard it, and I had tears in my eyes when he finished.

I sat next to him on the piano bench and took his hand. "We've found our song."

"No. It is one thing playing for you, but I'm not sure I want to play for anyone else. My music is very private as far as I'm concerned. No one has heard me play or sing for ten years."

"I'm honoured. The way you feel about your music is fine, I understand entirely. The band can sing it and play it. You don't need to. Only the band leader ever need hear you do it. But I think it would be a great shame if you kept such a talent to yourself. You're amazing. You're a better musician than a dancer, and that says a lot. I think you should play and sing for other people, even if only your friends and family."

"It's still a no."

"It felt amazing sticking it to Pete. You deserve to get a chance to do that, too. Dancing to music you've arranged would do that," I pushed.

"No."

Edward had done so much for me in the past week that I felt indebted to do the same for him. He had taken me from someone who hated being the centre of attention and refused to do TV interviews to someone who was used to entirely ignoring the ever-present cameras and was actively wanting to be on a TV programme for as long as possible. If Edward could help me overcome some of my demons, the least I could do was return the favour. After all, I hated the fairytales where the damsel in distress gets saved by Prince Charming. Now it was the damsel's turn to save the prince. We would dance this week to 'Just Can't Get Enough'. Even if I had to use underhand tactics.

"Okay, let's do a deal. I'll make you a roast dinner if you record 'Just Can't Get Enough' and then sit down critically to listen to it."

"You're not bribing me."

"It isn't a bribe, it is simply a sweetener. And, for the record, my roasts are amazing."

"No."

"I'll let you choose the meat – chicken, lamb or beef. Your choice."

"No. Will you please let this lie?" Edward asked, exasperated.

"You owe me. You molested me this morning."

"I bought you brunch, and you forgave me. You can't guilt me into this." Edward still stood firm.

I'd tried bribing and guilt trips. They didn't work. Now I had no choice but to resort to threats. "I'll get Alice involved unless you agree to record your song and listen to it."

That really made Edward pause and consider things. "Am I good?"

"You are better than good. You are fucking stupendous. Record yourself and listen critically. You'll hear what I hear."

"Do I still get the roast? I want lamb," Edward demanded.

While Edward recorded it using some free software on his laptop, I went shopping for provisions. It was a Sunday afternoon, and for once I was going to cook the only meal appropriate for a Sunday afternoon – a roast. When I came back, Edward was sitting on the floor listening to it intently.

"Is that me singing and playing?" he asked.

I sat down next to him and held his hand. "Yes, you know it is."

"But it's good."

"It's fantastic. You've been playing for years; why are you surprised to find out that you're good?"

"Ever since the bottling, I've thought I was shit," he admitted.

I gave him a hug. "Perhaps it's time to start healing. You are phenomenally talented and people should hear you play."

"Maybe."

"Ask the band leader what he thinks," I suggested.

Edward was silent. He seemed to actually be considering it. I tried and failed to hide my grin.

"The roast won't cook itself, much like the dance can't choreograph itself. Why don't we get on with it?" I recommended.

"Alright, but I'm going to choreograph for 'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk'."

"As long as you play your recording for the band leader I don't mind. But I'd prefer to dance to 'Just Can't Get Enough'. It's more us."

While the lamb was cooking, Edward joined me in the kitchen, looking very pleased with himself.

"I take it that things have been going well?" I inquired.

"Very. Can I steal you from the cooking for a minute to see how well the choreography works with the music?" Edward asked.

"Sure."

Edward took a remote from his pocket, pressed a button, and his version of 'Just Can't Get Enough' started playing.

"I started choreographing for 'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk' but I just couldn't do it. It's a great song but it didn't feel right. So I started choreographing for 'Just Can't Get Enough' instead," Edward explained.

He started off holding me close and then got me to twist out of his arms until we were at arm's reach and then taught me some basic rumba steps.

"It sounds amazing. And the dance is great so far. It is really us. Do you think we can use it?" I asked enthusiastically.

"If we ask nicely enough. I need to sweet talk the producers, but hopefully they'll agree."

Edward called the producers, and they agreed if the band leader did, with the proviso that they could select one song of their choice at some point. We were a little worried about what they would choose, but it was a sacrifice we were prepared to make in order to use this song.

The next afternoon, Edward had to meet with the band leader, so our practice would be cut short. As such, we decided to get started on learning the dance today instead of having a rest.

After we ate the roast, we headed to the studio to start learning the dance.

"You should find this fairly easy, and you'll be pleased to know there is very little spinning to it."

"So, the chance of vomming on TV is slim to none this week?"

"Exactly."_  
_

The dance was going well until Edward tried to get me to dance sexily. I couldn't do sexy, certainly not sober anyway.

"_It's getting hotter, it's a burning love,_" Edward sang, and I was supposed to shimmy provocatively around him. I was really finding this difficult.

"I find imaging that you're having sex helps," he suggested. "Think of the hottest sex you've ever had and it is much easier."

"Right." I quickly ran through my sexual encounters. None were what I would describe as hot. Frankly, this morning had easily been the hottest experience of my life, and Edward was asleep at the time. My sex life was nonexistent, and when I had one, it had truly been shit. No man had ever made me come. But I wasn't about to admit that.

I tried to think sexy thoughts and dance sensually, but all I could think of was Paul laughing at my attempts at seduction.

_I lay across the bed in front of Paul dressed in only black lacy lingerie and pouted. "I've been waiting for you," I purred._

_Paul just laughed. "Sorry but I'm knackered. And I have a headache. I just need to go to sleep."_

_I crawled towards him as sexily as possible while maximising my cleavage. "But you only just got home. And I put this on just for you." I pouted. "Perhaps I could convince you."_

"_I'm sorry. I'm just not in the mood."_

"_Don't you find me sexy?"_

"_Bella, you aren't a sexy person. Some people aren't. Don't feel bad about it."_

_In an effort to dissuade him, I undid his trousers and pulled his limp penis out. I toyed with it a bit, licking around the head, and it slowly started to stiffen. If he can get erect that must mean I'm sexy, I told myself. Then Paul closed his eyes, grabbed my head and fucked my face, just like he always did. Three minutes later, he was done and in bed snoring. My needs had been ignored- as per fucking usual._

Unsurprisingly, these recollections had a negative impact on my dancing and Edward noticed.

"Have you tried the thinking of sex trick?" he asked.

"Yes," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Really? I've never heard of it failing."

"Well, perhaps that's because the people who use it are sexy."

"But you're sexy, so it should work for you."

"No, I'm not," I mumbled. This was so humiliating. I couldn't believe that I had to admit this to the sexiest man alive. I shouldn't even need to say it. It was immediately obvious to everyone. I had the sex appeal of a tadpole.

"I'm sorry. What are you talking about?"

"I'm not a sexy person, which is fine, not everyone is."

"Sorry, you've lost me," Edward said, incredulously.

"I'm not sexy."

"Yes, you are." Why was he continuing this lie? It was just reminding me of one of the most debasing moments of my life.

"No, I'm not."

"How could you possibly think that?" Edward asked, confused.

"I've been told that."

"By whom?"

"An ex." I could feel the tears welling up.

"Was he gay?"

"Excuse me?"

"The only reason that a man wouldn't find you sexy was if he was gay."

Did that mean that Edward thought I was sexy? I quickly quashed the thought. It was impossible that anyone, let alone Edward, would think that I was sexy.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked.

"You're humouring me so that our rumba goes well." I was losing the battle against the tears.

"Trust me, I'm deadly serious. You're very sexy. That guy has really done a number on you, hasn't he?"

I could hold it in no longer; the dam burst and I started crying. Edward put his arms round me and tried to comfort me.

"That guy was a grade A twat. He must have been gay. There is no other way to explain how he could have thought that."

"Stop being kind to me. It isn't necessary," I complained.

"I'm not being kind. I'm being honest, unlike your ex."

I could stand it no longer. I needed to be alone. I pulled away from his embrace and stood up. "I think we need to call it a day. I'll see you tomorrow morning," I said as I ran out of the studio. Thankfully, Edward didn't follow me.

On the way back to my hotel, I went to a corner shop and grabbed two bottles of red, some good old Ben and Jerry's, and a big bar of dairy milk.

As soon as I got to my room, I flopped onto my bed, scrolled through the movie options and chose the first chick flick I could find.

I was halfway through _Maid in Manhattan_, three-quarters of the way through the first bottle of wine and had finished the ice cream when my phone rang.

"Ello?" I slurred, answering it.

"Bella, it's Alice. How are you?"

"Drunk," I replied honestly.

"Are you okay?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Why?"

"Edward called and said you might need a girly chat."

"Nope. Messrs Ben and Jerry have sorted me out with the aid of J. Lo, Ralph Fiennes and Blossom Hill."

"You want me to come over and keep you company?" Alice asked kindly.

"No, thank you. I've got all the company I need."

"I'll be seeing you tomorrow anyway."

"Why?"

"Edward has asked me to help you practice tomorrow afternoon when he has some mysterious meeting."

"Don't you need to practice with James?"

"We can spare the time. I want to spend some time with my favourite author anyway. I'll pick you up from your studio," Alice informed me.

"Okay."

"Do you know what meeting Edward has tomorrow?"

"Yeah, he's meeting the _Strictly_ band leader"

"Why?"

"He's very cleverly made an amazing version of 'Just Can't Get Enough' for us to rumba to. He has to play it for the band leader," I elaborated.

"Has he played for you?"

"Yeah, and sang too. He's amazing." I was just so proud of him; I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

"Really? How interesting… Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Alice."

That was weird. Why hadn't Edward told her about the meeting? I pushed that thought aside and continued watching _Maid in Manhattan_.

I woke up, cuddling an empty wine bottle, to the sound of my phone ringing. My head was pounding. In an effort to shut the phone up, I answered it.

"Hello? Bella speaking," I whispered.

"Bella. It's Angela. Have you seen today's _Sun_?"

"No. I've only just woken up, and it's not really my type of newspaper."

"Stop being snobby and go buy a copy," Angela instructed.

"Why?"

"Why do you think? Your antics on Saturday night have made the gossip section."

"Ah. Good publicity or bad publicity?" I was filled with a sense of dread.

"For the show, great publicity. For you, good publicity. For Edward, bad publicity."

"Oh."

"Are you okay? You sound very quiet."

"I'm a bit hung-over."

"Bella," Angela admonished, "Have you decided to try and win Caner of the Year award?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Go buy _The Sun_ and you'll discover for yourself. Aren't you usually practising by now anyway?"

"What's the time?"

"Nine thirty."

"Fuck. Gotta go."

"I'm so, so sorry I'm late," I apologised.

"As long as you're okay, I forgive you. I was worried," said Edward.

"Sorry. I slept in, then was too busy running for the tube to call, and once I was on, my phone didn't work…"

"You're here now. And with a copy of the _Sun_. I thought you were more of a _Guardian_ girl."

"It has a report about our adventures on Saturday night," I commented, handing him the copy. "Page 37." Edward took it and started reading.

"**STRICTLY COME PISSED**" by Gordon Smith

"There are some new candidates for our Caner of the Year award. Straight after their show, the stars of _Strictly Come Dancing_ went out on the razz.

"The first stars to appear were Leah Clearwater and SAM Uley who emerged from the club at the modest hour of one a.m. However, the way they were acting around each other was anything but modest. Leah had her hand down Sam's trousers, and he pulled her into a Hollywood-style snog in front of the cameras before helping her into a waiting taxi.

"Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan, the prize-winning author, appeared next with Edward looking rather the worse for wear and being propped up by Isabella. He was trying to grope her, but she swatted his hands while he yelled about how lucky he was to have her as a dance partner. No taxi driver would take him so they ended up walking away. They were spotted the next morning having brunch nearby.

"Charlotte Dixie and Peter Trelawny ignored their age difference and were holding hands when they emerged at two thirty a.m.

"At three a.m. Jasper and Alice Whitlock, and Rosalie Hale appeared disappointingly sober and quickly disappeared into a taxi dragging a hammered Emmett McCarty, who was trying to drown his sorrows at being out in the first round, behind them.

"Sir Michael Newton wobbled out alone a short while later looking green and having redecorated the men's bathroom with vomit. He had clearly been researching binge drinking for Parliament.

"Seth Clarke and Jacob Black stumbled out soon afterwards looking bleary-eyed.

"Tanya Palin and Laurent Perot toddled out next after having finished off five bottles of champagne between them.

"James Kelly appeared plastered with the lovely, but sozzled, Victoria Morgan, Jessica Stanley, Kate Lewis and Lauren Mallory at four a.m. They all posed very nicely for the photographers even if they were slurring their words.

"Let's hope that they'll have recovered in time for practice on Monday.

"See page three for our very own Lauren Mallory and her disco balls."

"Shit," cursed Edward.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think the producers are probably quite pleased with us. So," I said, changing topics, "Alice is helping train me this afternoon?"

"Yep."

"Why?" I asked.

"I think that you need a certain kind of training that she is infinitely more qualified than I am to deliver."

"Is it shopping?"

"Yes."

"How the hell does that relate to the rumba?" I demanded.

"You'll find out."

That man was evil.

"Alice, are we going shopping?" I asked, depressed at the prospect.

"You live in London at the moment, but you look like you belong on a farm. It's time to ditch the tweed and embrace skin-tight jeans."

Oh God.

"But how does that relate to the rumba?" I exploded.

"All you need to know is that it does," she responded.

Why was everyone being evasive? Could I not get a straight answer for once?

"We're here!" exclaimed Alice. We'd already decimated Zara and Topshop (not to mention my bank account) and I was terrified about what shop I would be forced into next. I looked up to the sign and was surprised.

"Agent Provocateur?" I asked.

"Yes. Heaven-sent lingerie. And this is the shop we've been heading for all this time."

"And, pray tell, how does this relate to the rumba?" I inquired.

"Edward thought you needed to be introduced to your sexy side." He told Alice!

"I don't have a sexy side."

"Oh you do, I've seen it loads. Mostly when you're drunk. I'm here to help you realise it when sober." Alice smiled enthusiastically.

"And how will lingerie help?"

"Lingerie makes women feel sexy. As do orgasms, and they sell rampant rabbits here."

"I'm not buying lingerie, and I most certainly am not buying a rampant rabbit," I insisted.

"Oh yes you are. Come on." And with that she pulled me inside.

"I'm not coming out," I called.

"Well, I'm coming in then," Alice threatened.

"Oh no, you're not."

"Oh yes, I am. This is beginning to sound like a pantomime," Alice laughed, throwing back the curtain and catching me by surprise.

"I'm not lesbian, but I think you could turn me in that," she commented.

"Fuck off," I grumbled.

"Look at yourself properly." She pushed me in front of the full-length mirror and forced me to look at myself. I was wearing an exceptionally low-cut corset that I was practically falling out of and virtually see-through knickers and stockings.

"I look like someone who needs to put some clothes on," I complained.

"Look at how curvy you are. I'd kill for curves like yours. And these magnificent boobs."

"Good attempt, Alice, but it won't work. We both know that I'm not sexy."

"Who told you this?" she asked.

"My ex-boyfriend, Paul."

"What was Paul like in bed?"

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed.

"What was his favourite sexual position?"

"I'm not telling you that!"

"Doggy style?"

It was, but that was private. I wasn't going to tell her that.

Alice looked at me. "It was, wasn't it? I knew it," she said.

"Did he fully appreciate your tits?"

I bit my lip and tried not to cry.

"Did he go down on you often?"

For the second time in two days, I could feel the tears welling up.

"Did he make you go down on him all the time? Was he often too tired to have sex?"

That did it. The tears spilled and suddenly I was dressed in overpriced lingerie in Agent Provocateur crying.

"Shhh, shhh. I know this feels horrible now, but I'm doing it to prove that you are sexy and he was just a gay wanker. Have you ever told anyone about this?" Alice comforted.

"No."

"Girl talk is really important. Come on, let's get you out of this gorgeous underwear and over to my place for some private girl talk and lots of wine. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Just one thing, you need to buy all this lingerie." Alice gestured to the piles of lingerie she had picked out for me. "It is divine and you need to buy it. Wear it to practice your rumba and I promise it will help."

Alice poured me a glass of wine. "Tell me everything," she insisted.

"We met halfway through my first year of Uni. He was my first - my only. I tried so hard to please him. I bought lingerie, read loads of sex tips on the Internet, lit candles, whatever I could think of, but he still had to close his eyes in order to get hard. Even in lingerie that made my boobs look stellar. We moved in together in our second year. I realised our sex life wasn't right, so I kept putting on lingerie and waiting for him to come home so I could seduce him. He would come home late claiming he'd been at the library but actually stinking of beer. The most sex I ever got from that was giving him a blow job, and he would never reciprocate. He said that my yoni wasn't pretty or nice. He'd fall asleep straight after a blow job.

"We broke up a few months later," I confessed. I'd never told anyone that before. It felt like a huge relief to get it off my chest.

"He must've been gay. I think we need someone else to confirm that." Alice picked up her phone and dialled a number. "Renee! It's Alice."

Was she calling my mum? How did she have her number? Why did she have her number? Something about this all made me very fearful.

"I'm good, thanks and you? … Glad to hear that you're well. I'm wondering if I could utilise your highly evolved gaydar. I want to prove a point to a friend of mine… Excellent, I'm putting you on speakerphone."

"My gaydar and I are ready and waiting. Hit me with the information," my mother said.

"A friend of mine had a man suggest that she wasn't sexy, and I think he may have been gay. I want to give you some facts about their relationship and see what you think," Alice explained.

"Go for it."

"Could only get hard when his eyes were shut."

"Either gay or had erectile dysfunction."

"Wasn't interested in her tits and wouldn't go anywhere near her muff," Alice informed my mother.

"Gay."

"Only really liked getting blow jobs."

"Gay."

"Told one of the sexiest women I know that she wasn't sexy and screwed up her confidence."

"Might mean that he was a twat. More likely that he was gay. Tell me Alice, either your 'friend' is you, which is unlikely because I don't think Jasper is gay, or you're talking about Bella. Bella, are you there?" said my mother in a rare perceptive moment.

"Hi Mum," I grumbled.

"Bella, I'm sure I've told you that Paul is gay," Mum replied.

"What?" My jaw dropped.

"After Uni, he moved to Brighton and has been a regular at _Scouting_ for years."

"What the fuck?"

"I'm sure I told you."

"I'm sure I would've remembered."

"Sorry, I was positive I told you. Oh well, you know now."

"My self-esteem could've done with being told rather earlier! I've spent the past six years thinking I was unattractive. Ever wondered why I haven't had any other boyfriends? Well, it's because my ex was a closeted queen who wouldn't admit that he wasn't attracted to women so instead he decided to convince himself and me that I was less sexy than a slug. Had I known that this was the case, I could've got over it years ago and could've had a sex life. Instead, I've lived like a fucking nun," I ranted.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but there is nothing I can do about it now. Besides string him up by the balls next time I see him," Mum apologised.

"Forget it. Bye."

I reached over to the phone and hung up.

"Told you he was gay," said Alice. "You are a sexy woman."

"I don't want to talk about this now. I need to process all this. Thanks for your help, but now I need a break." I stood up and collected my coat and bags. "I'll see you soon."

I walked out of her flat and went to the place that was the closest to the countryside I could find in central London - Hyde Park. Being in the countryside always helps me think. I found a quiet spot, sat down on a patch of grass and cried.

I don't know how long I sat there, but after a while, I got it out of my system and my sobs became quieter. I became more composed, and I sat up and started to do a sun salutation. Yoga helped calm me.

I was bent over with my elbows on the ground when my phone rang. I checked the caller ID and answered when I realised that it wasn't Alice.

"Seth, how are you?"

"Good thanks, Bella, and you?"

"I'm fine. What's up?" I asked.

"Do you want to go for a drink tonight? I'm trying to convince as many of the _Strictly _celebrities to come out as possible. I thought it'd be nice for us to moan about how difficult ballroom dancing is without the professionals laughing at our inadequacy."

"They don't laugh at us," I asserted.

"I certainly feel like they do. Anyway, you up for it?"

"Yeah, it's just what I need."

"Ace. How does 8 p.m. at the Commercial Tavern in Shoreditch sound? It's next to the tube station."

"Perfect. Is that a pub rather than a bar?" I smiled.

"It is one of the best pubs in London."

"That is exactly what I need. See you at eight."

* * *

**A/N: Please review.**

**Do you have any song suggestions? If so, I'd love to hear them. Please suggest in the reviews or pm me.**

Glossary

Bottled: Bottles and other easily accessible things (shoes, food, etc.) thrown at a performer. Most common at music festivals.

Hammered: Drunk.

Loos: Toilets.

Pantomime: A Christmas play for children, usually a fairytale.

Plastered: Drunk.

Razz: Going out to party/get drunk.

Rejig: To rearrange something. Commonly used in the UK but my betas had no idea what it meant. Its actually in the dictionary. Use it today, it's an awesome word.

Shagging: Having sex.

Shitfaced: Very drunk.

Smashed: Drunk.

Snog: French kiss.

Sozzled: Drunk.

Vomming: Vomiting

Wankered: Very drunk.

Yoni: Vagina. (It is a Sanskrit word that also means sacred space.)


	7. Bringing Sexy Back

A/N: Alas, all fictional characters are owned by Ms Meyer. The Beeb owns _Strictly Come Dancing_. I own nothing…

Confused by British speak? Check out the glossary at the bottom. Having said that, I've been kind to my non-British readers this chapter and there are only three things on it…

* * *

BPOV

I felt strange sitting on the tube, for the first time, I felt like I fit in. I was wearing a grey jersey dress, a fob watch necklace and my high heels, all of which bought, in Alice's presence. Previously, in my comfortable tweed, I had felt like an outsider, but now I looked just as trendy as everyone else. But more importantly than that, I felt sexy. I'm not sure what made me feel sexier, the dress or the lingerie that Alice had convinced me to buy earlier. I almost wore my comfortable cotton knickers and bras, but on a whim I decided to put them on. The lacy push up and knickers combined with the stockings made me feel more empowered, confident and attractive. Perhaps Alice knew what she was talking about after all.

I got off the tube at Shoreditch and quickly found my way to the pub. It hadn't taken me as long as I had expected and I was early. So I was surprised to see a tall, handsome, British-Asian man standing at the bar. Normally I would feel shy around someone whom I hadn't really met before, but today I walked up to him confidently.

"Hi, Jacob isn't it? Or should I be calling you Bigfoot?" I joked.

"I tend to prefer Jake, although I have a horrible feeling that Bigfoot is going to catch on," he said with a wry smile. "You're Isabella, right?"

"Bella actually. Nice to meet you properly." I extended my hand and he shook it.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

"Pint of Black Sheep, please."

"Wow. I was expecting you to order vodka and soda or something boring like most beautiful women. Anyone who chooses real ale, and a Yorkshire one at that, is a woman I want to get to know. How have I not met you yet?" He looked at me with an amazed expression on his face and moved infinitesimally closer to me.

"You have always been surrounded by a bevy of women," I pointed out.

"Yeah, I really hope they're not coming tonight. They are very dull and very insistent," he laughed.

We got our drinks and walked over to a table.

"Aww, it's a hard life being a handsome man, isn't it?" I teased.

"It is when you're surrounded by leeches. I had enough of that on the racing circuit. I was hoping to get away from it here."

"You thought that _Strictly Come Dancing_ would be a good way of avoiding gold diggers?" I asked.

"Well, that's not my only reason for being on _Strictly_."

"So why are you on it?" I pressed.

"I wanted to try something new."

"Well, dancing is certainly not Formula One," I bantered.

"Exactly. I was also hoping to meet some new people."

"New people or new women? If it's the latter you're doing fairly well."

"New women. But I can't meet the right kind because the wrong kind are constantly surrounding me," he complained.

"So what is the right kind of woman then?"

"Well, that depends on who you ask. If you ask my mother they would be a Pakistani Muslim who makes excellent roti. But I want someone who is down to earth like me, someone interested in _me_, not my fame or money."

"Did you just call yourself down to earth?" I asked, incredulously.

"What?" He appeared to be affronted by my question.

"You're a racing driver. Didn't you date a supermodel? That doesn't seem like down to earth behaviour to me," I pointed out.

"Dating Lucy was a youthful mistake. I got caught up in the excitement of being a celebrity. But I'm rapidly nearing thirty and need to get my priorities straight. And at heart, I'm down to earth." He was looking at me directly in the eyes. Was he flirting?

"Really?" I scoffed.

"Really. I'm a Yorkshire lad, born and bred. I grew up on a farm and used to help my dad milk his cows before I went to school. I want to meet someone whom I can take home to my parents. Someone who'll politely eat Mum's attempts at Yorkshire-Pakistani fusion food," he said sincerely.

"I'm sorry, you need to clarify that. 'Yorkshire-Pakistani fusion food'?"

"My mum moved to Yorkshire from Pakistan as a young girl and met and fell in love with my dad, an old-fashioned Yorkshire dairy farmer. She tries to reconcile their different cultures, and families, through her cooking. She combines Yorkshire puddings and chicken baltis, and makes toad in the hole using naan bread instead of batter. The polite thing to call it is 'interesting'," Jacob explained.

"Anyway, to return to my original point, I want someone who has their feet firmly planted on the ground — someone like you." Jake was leaning towards me and speaking softer. I felt terrified; no one had asked me out for a long time and I had no idea how to respond. Did I want to go on a date with him? I had no clue. "Would you like to—"

Thankfully my phone rang and interrupted Jake. I scrambled through my bag to find it.

"I think I'll take this outside," I told Jake and walked to the cold beer garden.

"Edward! How are you? How did the meeting go?" I asked overenthusiastically. If my response to Edward's call was anything to go by, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to go to go on a date with Jake. There was only one man I wanted to spend my time with, and that was never going to happen.

"The meeting went really well, thanks. They loved it. It was a huge boost to my confidence, I can tell you."

"I'm so pleased for you." I truly meant that.

"However, they're forcing me to sing it. The producers were there and decided that having one of the dancers sing would pull in viewers, so I've got to do it." He didn't seem that nervous at the prospect.

"Do you think you can manage it?" I asked, concerned.

"If you managed to dance on TV after only a week of practising I can bloody well sing on TV. I've been singing for years, after all."

"Well, I'll be there to try and keep you calm like you did for me."

"If you can control your own nerves."

"And that's a big if!" I laughed.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drink tonight to celebrate?" Edward asked.

"I would love to but I'm having a drink with some of the 'celebrities' from _Strictly_." I would far rather spend time with Edward than get hit on by Jake.

"Who is there at the moment?" Edward asked.

"Just Jake and I, we both got here early."

"Just the two of you?" he sounded annoyed.

"Yes, and?" I prodded. Was he jealous?

"And nothing. May I come along?"

"I'd like you to be here, but I think Seth, who organised it, just wanted it to be the novices. He wants to be able to moan about how difficult it all is without feeling patronised. It's a bit like a support group."

"Foot-steppers anonymous?" Edward joked.

"Something like that."

"How did your trip with Alice go?" he asked.

"It was certainly educational. You were right, Paul is gay. He's a regular at _Scouting_," I informed Edward, matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Edward spluttered.

"Yeah, he came out and moved to Brighton right after Uni. My mum has known about his sexual preferences for years and swears she told me, but I think I'd have remembered that."

"Well, at least you know now."

"That's how I'm trying to view it. It took a while for it to sink in, but I'm feeling better now. Alice also took me shopping and the new clothes are making me feel more confident and sexy," I said optimistically.

"I'm delighted to hear it." He really did sound happy.

"I've left Jake alone for way too long. I'm really pleased your meeting went well," I said.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the studio tomorrow."

"See you then."

"By the way, I missed you today," Edward said in a quieter tone.

"I missed you too," I replied.

"See you."

"Bye."

Edward missed me? Wow. And I'd missed him too. So much.

I went back into the pub to see our table packed. In my absence, Jessica had sat down next to Jake and was fawning all over him. When he saw me, he flashed me an apologetic smile. I just shrugged and sat next to Seth.

"How is the rumba going? Is pretending to fancy Victoria easier than pretending to love her?" I asked Seth.

"God no, have you seen how much make-up she wears? And those tits, they have to be fake. Not my kind of woman at all," he answered.

"There is nothing wrong with wearing make-up and having a boob job," Jessica defended. She also clearly wore lots of make-up, and I was prepared to bet that her boobs weren't real.

"We're not saying there is anything wrong with it, just that we prefer our women au naturel," Jake responded.

"What, like Bella?" laughed Jessica. _Bitch_.

"Are you saying that I'm not attractive?" I asked, wanting to slap her.

"Let me put it this way, I think Edward would find it easier to rumba with me," Jessica argued.

Seth saw the, metaphorical smoke coming from my ears and tried to defuse the situation. "There are many different opinions on what is attractive. Bella's beauty may be subtler than yours, but she's still beautiful. As are you."

"It's my round I think, what does everyone want?" I asked in a desperate attempt to remove myself from the situation.

The guys ordered beers, but Jessica wanted vodka and soda. I couldn't help but catch Jake's eye, and we both stifled a laugh.

On my way over to the bar, I ran into Leah.

"Practice over ran. I'm sorry I'm late," she said as she saw me. Judging by her messed up hair and smudged lipstick, I don't think she was practising her routine.

"Well, you're just in time for my round. What do you want?"

"White wine, please."

She stayed with me whilst I ordered.

"And a vodka with your most calorific lemonade please," I asked the barmaid before turning to Leah. "If Jessica asks, they ran out of soda," I told her.

"What did she do?" Leah asked.

"She pretty much told me I was unattractive."

"Bitch. Is this the best you can come up with?" she demanded.

"I couldn't very well spike her drink, now could I? It was either this or get her a white Russian. And this is vaguely like what she ordered."

"Spit in it," she suggested.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Spit in it," Leah insisted.

"That is disgusting."

"Either you do it or I will."

"I can't, it's childish," I responded.

"Fine." Leah spat into Jessica's drink and swirled it round with the straw to try and hide it.

I handed out the drinks and whilst Jessica was highly dubious about the pub having no soda she was oblivious to the added ingredient.

Soon afterwards, James, Mike, Kate and Peter turned up as well. James and Mike both spent their time shamelessly flirting with all of us women with varying degrees of success. Frankly, it was a real nuisance having to swat them off all them the time whilst hoping that Jake would not attempt to ask me out again.

Despite the persistent males, a great night was had by all. It was really good to talk to people in the same position as I was. Edward was sympathetic and patient but having a collective moan felt really good.

"Do any of your partners expect you to get a move exactly right the first time?" Seth whined.

"No," replied Leah, "That is impossible for a beginner. Does Victoria have ridiculously high expectations?"

"Yeah, and she gets so pissed off when I don't get it immediately. But I'd like to see her run a marathon. Dancers think that three minutes is a long time to be physically active," Seth complained.

"I did ballroom dancing at school, so I picked it up fairly quickly," boasted Sir Michael. No one mentioned the fact that whilst he may have picked up the steps quickly he did not actually do them well.

"I'm finding it really easy," claimed Jessica.

"Well, you're a pop star; dancing is the majority of what you do," I observed.

"No, I mostly sing," she corrected.

"Really? I thought you lip-synced," added Leah, spitefully.

"Just because I'm not the lead singer doesn't mean I mime," defended Jessica.

"Of course not, honey," Leah responded sarcastically.

We even slagged off some of the professionals.

"Have you heard that Alice is clairvoyant?" asked Kate.

"She isn't clairvoyant; she just thinks she is," I responded.

"She predicted that Emmett and Lauren would be out in the first round," said James.

"Fluke," I said.

"She also predicted that you and Edward would get together," added Kate.

"That isn't fortune telling, that's meddling," I replied.

"Come again?" asked Jake.

"She wants us to get together, so she tells us that it's 'meant to be' in an attempt to encourage us."

"So, is she talking out of her arse?" Peter enquired.

"Indeed - Alice Whitlock: Fortune's fool."

"That would be an awesome segment on _It Takes Two_. Each week Alice predicts what will happen on _Strictly_," suggested Kate.

"The only trouble with that it's a conflict of interest if she is still on the show," Jake chipped in.

"Well, when her and James get knocked out, we'll have to suggest it," added Leah.

"Not gonna happen. We've got chemistry. We'll make it to the finals," insisted James.

"Did Alice tell you that?" I joked.

At closing time, I reluctantly said goodbye to some of the group and happily parted with some of the others. We all agreed to make it a regular Monday event. It was also decided that we should paint the town red after each show, even if it meant that we became tabloid fodder.

I walked into the dance studio the next morning feeling far more confident than I had before. I had taken Alice's advice about wearing sexy lingerie whilst practising and was wearing a gorgeous fifties inspired navy bra and knickers set with stockings. This underwear necessitated a dress, and I was wearing a stripped long sleeved sailor style jersey dress over it. When I stood in front of the mirror this morning with the dress and a tweed jacket, which Alice had conceded to only because they are suddenly in fashion, I felt good. I looked good. I looked sexy and confident. I even managed a slick of lipstick and some mascara. I was ready for the rumba.

"Morning," Edward greeted, with a big smile on his face.

"Morning. Fantastic news about the song. How are you feeling about it today?" I asked.

"Good, but I'm going to combine singing and dancing practice if you don't mind," he requested.

"That sounds great to me."

"Are you going to get changed?" Edward queried.

"Nope, why?"

"You're not dancing in that, are you?" Edward's brows knitted in confusion.

"Of course. There is loads of room for movement." I removed my jacket and demonstrated my flexibility a bit. "Besides, I'm following some advice of Alice's."

"Oh? What was that?"

"None of your business. But it's working so far, so I shall continue."

We started to practice and I think the lingerie was really working. It was like self-esteem boosting magic. Edward, like the good teacher he was, commented on how much I had improved. I felt great.

When we came to a part of the dance where our bodies were pressed together, Edward took a sharp intake of breath and his voice wobbled. Had he noticed my stockings? I hoped not. How embarrassing. Thankfully, he carried on and remained a consummate professional.

Edward had showed me almost all of the dance and it was really good. Then, just as he was about to show me the final move, he stopped dancing and paused the music.

"How much do you trust me?" he asked.

"More than I trust anyone else," I replied and a sense of unease came over me.

"How strong is your neck? Can you do a headstand?"

Where was he going with this? "Yes, I can do a headstand. Why?"

"I want to try a flashy move where I support the majority of your weight with my hand on your neck. About ten centimetres from the floor," Edward asked, sheepishly.

"What?" This sounded quite scary and I was beginning to get worried.

"We'll start off easily. I'm not suggesting that we go for it all at once. Okay?" reassured Edward.

"All right, how do we go about doing this?"

"Can you get into a crab pose but with your elbows supporting your weight rather than your hands," he instructed.

I did this reluctantly and felt Edward stand very close behind my head. "I'm going to put my hand on your neck and take your weight." Edward spoke slowly and surely, with authority. He gave me complete confidence in his abilities, but I wasn't convinced about mine.

"Okay." I took a deep breath and felt Edward's strong hand on the back of my neck.

"You're doing well so far. When you're ready, take your elbows off the ground. I've got you."

I took a deep breath and slowly lifted my elbows and arms off the ground and brought them in line with the rest of my body. Breathing deeply, I reassured myself that we could do this.

"Excellent. I'm going to lift you up now to standing. Try and stand up."

Edward slowly lifted my neck up and before I knew it I was upright.

"Wow, we did it!" I smiled.

"Well, we did most of it, but we now need to get you into that position without using the crab position first," Edward said in a very reassuringly authoritative tone. I felt like we could do anything Edward suggested.

"We're going to get into that position by basically doing the reverse of what we just did. We're going to start off slow and get faster until we're at the right speed. If this is too difficult we can do something else, but I think it would be a great move to finish on."

Edward put his hand behind my neck whilst I stood up straight, and we slowly lowered my body. As long as I focused on my core muscles I could do it, although I knew they would be hurting in the morning. Never had I been more grateful that I do yoga. Without that I would be hopeless.

We practised this move for hours until my abs were screaming and I decided that we were well and truly in need of a kitchen dance. Putting Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself" on, I danced crazily and stretched my aching muscles. Edward joined me and slowly turned it into a partner dance. He led me around the floor and even included the move we had spent hours practising. Knowing that we could do it off the cuff boosted my confidence.

"Excellent, ladies. Looking gorgeous. Change poses, please," yelled the bossy photographer. _Glamour_ magazine was doing a huge spread in their up and coming issue on _Strictly_ and, despite my objections, I apparently had to be here too. So, here I was standing next to Jessica Stanley and wearing a shiny pink polyester monstrosity that had huge bows on the shoulders. I looked like a bloody birthday present.

While the female dancers were being photographed, they all relaxed and took it in their stride, but they were used to photo shoots. I had to have photos taken for the sleeves of my books, but that was just the once. I hated the experience so much that I refused to repeat the process for the other books. I was completely new to this, and I felt well and truly like a fish out of water. So I acted like a petulant child and scowled.

"Bella, try and relax. Smile and enjoy yourself," instructed the photographer.

Relax? I'd like to see him try.

"Yeah, Bella, you look like you've got constipation," whispered Jessica, cattily.

I tried to calm down by imagining jamming my stilettos through her jugular, but it didn't help. I could see the photographer getting increasingly exasperated with me.

"All right, lovely ladies, take a five minute break," he said, and before I managed to escape he caught me.

"You seem to be having some trouble with this. When we start shooting again, I want you to close your eyes just before and think of some good memories. If you can't fake happy and relaxed, I need you to really feel that way. Okay?" the photographer insisted.

"Okay," I grumbled. Happy thoughts, I could think happy thoughts. Avebury, dancing with Edward. I felt more relaxed already.

Soon enough the five minutes were up and I was standing under the bright lights again. Thankfully, the order had been switched around, and whilst I was still on the outside, Jessica was now in the centre of the group. Alice sat on a chair in front of me instead.

I tried to think happy thoughts, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I was in the ugliest and least comfortable dress imaginable, and so I couldn't relax. I did my best at imitating the moves of everyone else but it wasn't working.

The photographer was looking even more stressed and irritated with me when Edward, Jasper and Emmett walked into the room. Edward caught my eye and grinned at me. He looked really handsome in his suit without a tie. I smiled back and forgot about the camera.

Suddenly there were loads of camera flashes in quick succession, and the photographer yelled, "Finally! We've got it. You ladies can relax now. We'll now do the couples starting with Charlotte and Sir Mike."

My photos with Edward went loads better, and I had even managed to get a far nicer dress. It was a midnight blue tiered dress with a jewelled halter neck and was an infinite improvement on the pink gift wrapping dress. The nice dress combined with Edward's presence helped me stay relaxed.

When I was waiting for the final picture of all of us together, I was interviewed and the questions got a little too personal for my liking. Along with all the dull questions about how I was finding the dancing and whether I liked working with Edward, the journalist started getting very nosy and I didn't like it one bit.

"You're lucky to have ended up with Edward as your partner," she commented.

"Yes, but then all the professionals are wonderful," I replied, skating over the whole truth.

"Yes, but Edward in particular. He's really hot," the journalist dug further.

"Yes, he is handsome," I conceded.

"Must be difficult to keep your hands to yourself," she said, slyly.

"I manage to remain professional," I replied coldly.

"You two seem to get on well."

"Where are you going with this?" I demanded.

"Are you two an item?"

"No," I snapped. "Any further questions that aren't about my personal life? Perhaps about my novel that is coming out in a few weeks?"

"Could I have Edward's phone number?" she asked hopefully.

"For fuck's sake! Ask him yourself." And with that I stormed out.

"Please welcome to the studio Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan," announced Claudia Winkleman, the presenter of _Strictly's_ companion programme _It Takes Two_. The crew whooped in greeting for Edward and I as we sat on the curved sofa near Claudia.

"First of all, let me congratulate you two on getting the highest marks from the judges last week. Thirty-two out of forty is one of the best scores we've ever seen in the first week," welcomed Claudia, flicking her long brown hair.

"Thank you very much," Edward and I both replied, Edward confidently, whereas I responded shyly.

"You two put a huge amount of rehearsal time in last week, forty-eight hours in fact. The couple that put in the second longest time, Sam and Leah, only put in thirty hours. Bella, were you that bad that you required extra training?" Claudia probed.

I was speechless. How should I respond to that? Thankfully, Edward stepped in. "We could've got away with rehearsing for a third of that time, but we aren't happy with doing a rubbish job."

Edward's response to the question bolstered my confidence, and I decided to stand up for myself. "I'm completely new to dancing and I was petrified about doing it. I like to be completely and utterly prepared, and thankfully Edward was willing to put in the hours."

"So it doesn't have anything to do with the kitchen dances?" Claudia inquired.

"When you train as hard as we do, doing the same dance to the same music all day, it gets a bit boring. So we liven things up when we can," I defended.

"I also use them to gently improve Bella's dancing," added Edward.

"Well, let's see for ourselves; here are some clips of your kitchen dances," Claudia introduced.

I cringed as they played shots of our various kitchen dances. They even had a clip of me miming shooting Edward when dancing to "Paper Planes". It was so embarrassing.

"You've gone red!" commented Claudia, patting me on the knee.

"I know. I usually dance them in the privacy of my kitchen. It is rather a 'dance like no one is watching' dance," I explained.

"So you don't fancy doing a quick kitchen dance for us now?" asked Claudia with a glint in her eye.

"No!" I replied quickly. Edward just laughed.

"Are you putting in as many hours of rehearsal for your rumba this week?"

"Yes, we wouldn't want to be unprepared this week," I responded.

"The rumba is a sexy dance of love; are you finding that difficult?"

"We seem to be doing okay with that," said Edward, smiling.

"You do indeed; here are some clips of you getting close during rehearsals," Claudia linked, cheekily.

Clips of us smiling, hugging and even the occasional kiss came on.

"You seem closer than the average couple, with the exception of Sam and Leah; is there anything going on between you?" Claudia pressed.

What is it about people assuming we're a couple? This was beginning to get very frustrating.

"No, we're keeping things strictly professional," Edward responded calmly whilst I silently fumed.

"And we were hoping you two would become the next Ali and Brian," commented Claudia, referring to a couple that got together last series.

"Last week you two chose a very unusual song, 'Shining Light' by _Ash_. Why did you choose it?"

"We wanted a song that we wouldn't get bored by. When you train as much as we do you need a song you like!" I replied, smiling.

"We've made a pact to veto clichéd songs, and we intend to stick to it," Edward added.

"So what are you dancing to this week?" Claudia pushed.

"'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk' by _Rufus Wainwright_," Edward lied easily. I tried to smile and not make it obvious that he was lying. It seemed silly that the producers had decided to keep the song we were doing entirely secret. They were editing out the music and Edward's singing from the clips.

"Now that is definitely not a cliché! I look forward to seeing it." Changing the subject, Claudia continued, "I've heard that one of the couples is going to do a _Strictly_ first, but the producers are keeping it very close to their chest. Do you know who is doing it and what they are doing?"

"No idea at all, we're looking forward to finding out," Edward lied smoothly while I tried to keep my face impassive.

"Sorry that's all we've got time for. We wish you two the best of luck with your rumba on Saturday. Keep dancing!"

The next day I was getting fitted for my rumba dress –a nightmare of a dress with a see-through top with strategically placed sequins and a light blue feathered skirt- when, much to my surprise, Angela walked in.

"Bella. How are you?" she asked. I noticed that she had a rolled up magazine in her hand. I had a bad feeling that that was why she was here.

"I'm fine. Loving this dress," I replied with heavy sarcasm. "Are you here to see Ben?"

"No. Have you read this week's _Heat_?" I just shot her an incredulous look in response. "I guess not. Anyway, you made the front cover."

She unrolled the magazine and showed me the cover. There was a picture of Edward and I eating brunch and the caption "Is Edward Cullen taken?" On the positive side, Cheryl Cole was the main focus of the cover and not me.

I took the magazine from Angela and opened it up to the page she had marked. It had loads of pictures of Edward and I: us dancing, the nightclub incident and at a restaurant we went to this week. There was even a picture of Alice and I outside Agent Provocateur. According to them, we spent every minute of the day together, with the exception of when I bought lingerie for Edward, and were going at it at every opportunity. The journalist from _Glamour_ must've been in on it too because they mentioned my denial, although they were very sceptical about that.

The article even had a quote from an unnamed "friend."

"They may not be together yet, but the sexual tension between those two is crazy. They won't admit, it but they are head over heels for each other. I foresee them getting together in two weeks."

"Alice," I growled. "Can I borrow this?" I asked Angela as I indicated the magazine and stormed out in search of an annoying dancer.

My dress was covered in pins, but I didn't care as I rushed down the corridors and, without knocking, opened the door to Alice's dressing room.

I was greeted with the sight of Alice on her knees in front of Jasper. Thankfully, I didn't see anything too graphic, so I repressed it and decided that his fly was stuck and she was just helping him mend it. I certainly never wanted to see that again, even if it was just the fly.

I turned and walked out immediately and ran slap bang into Edward.

"You all right?" he asked while steadying me so I didn't fall.

"Your sister is supremely irritating," I fumed.

"I could've told you that. What has she done now?"

I handed him the magazine. "What does this have to do with Alice besides her being photographed with you?" Edward asked, confused.

I read him the quote from a "friend."

"Now, what 'friend' do you think that could be?"

"Ugh! I'll have a word with her."

I could see his hand moving for the door handle and yelled, "No! Knock first!"

Edward looked bemused but knocked.

"Give us a minute," was the muffled reply. Edward raised an eyebrow at me.

"You don't want to know," I said.

A grunt came from the dressing room. "I really don't. Ignorance is bliss," Edward replied.

Shuffling and sounds of clothing being rearranged could now be heard and then a very fresh faced Alice opened the door.

"Hello! Sorry about that. Jasper was helping me with some flexibility training," Alice greeted.

"I bet he was!" I replied.

"Anyway, 'friend.' Care to explain yourself?" Edward asked as he showed her the _Heat _magazine.

"Cheryl Cole's had a boob job!" screeched Alice. "Can I borrow this?"

"No. We're more concerned with this story regarding our apparent relationship. You know, the one you told about our 'sexual tension'," I spat.

"Oh that one. I was only telling the truth. Don't get annoyed with me about it. Besides, it's good publicity."

"How? They didn't mention my novels, and I don't particularly appreciate having my love life discussed in the gossip rags," I pointed out.

"Well, you should get used to it now. You're a celebrity. Nice dress by the way."

"Don't change the subject. And don't talk to gossip magazines about us ever again," I insisted.

"Fine. Seriously though, I like your dress. I probably wouldn't accessorise it with dressmaker pins."

"Really? I thought they added something. A bit punk in a way that primetime BBC audiences could accept…" I joked.

"Bella, it's almost time for our practice in the studio. We better go," said Edward. "Alice, we'll see you later. Don't go talking to any journalists in our absence."

"What a shame. I promised _Closer_ all the gossip." Alice pouted.

"You're hilarious. Bye," said Edward, drily, and we walked away.

"Is this what being famous is like? Having paparazzi follow you around and people making suppositions about your life?" I asked.

"It can be."

"Wish I'd stayed in Avebury," I said, wistfully.

"Then you'd never have met me."

"Swings and roundabouts." I smiled.

* * *

A/N: I've had a few musical suggestions so far that I've really appreciated and I'd love some more.

Glossary

Paint the town red: Party

Slagged off: Criticised.

Swings and roundabouts: A common British saying that means that the good things come with the bad.


	8. Sing Like No One is Listening

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I had this written a week ago, but then I took my computer in for what I thought would be a while-you-wait fix and it took them a week. And yes, my only copy of this was on this computer. Oops…

My lovely betas were rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180. Without them this chapter would be missing commas and full of comma splices.

As usual there is a glossary at the end to help explain peculiarly British terms.

**EPOV**

I had imagined introducing Bella to my parents many times, and I was hoping that I'd be able to do so as my girlfriend. However, I had never imagined it would be like this.

Alice had managed to wheedle the fact that I was going to be singing out of a drunk Bella, and she felt that Mum and Dad had to come and see it. Apparently, Alice hadn't thought it necessary to inform me that they were coming, so the first I heard about it was when they knocked on my dressing room door.

I opened the door expecting it to be a runner telling us our briefing had been pushed forward. Colour me surprised to see my mother.

"Edward! How are you?" Mum gushed, pushing past me into my room.

"Mum, Dad, what're you doing here?" I asked.

"A little birdie told us that you are singing today. We couldn't miss that," Dad explained.

"Alice," I muttered.

"Of course it was Alice, but I'm disappointed that you didn't tell us. Didn't you think we'd want to be here?" Mum asked.

"The producers wanted it to be a secret," I defended.

"I'm sure that didn't include your family. Anyway, we're here now and very excited," Mum enthused.

"How are you, son? Nervous?" Dad enquired.

"When I don't think about it, I'm fine," I responded, trying to hide just how terrified I really was.

"Want a snifter to calm the nerves?" Dad reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a hip flask that was probably full of whisky.

"I'm all right, but thanks for the offer."

"Don't drink and dance!" Mum admonished. Would she ever stop mothering me?

"I wasn't going to anyway!"

Thankfully, the family reunion was interrupted by a knock on my door.

"Come in," I yelled gratefully.

Bella walked in dressed in very little and looking bloody gorgeous. I had seen her in it the previous day but with the adjustments made, it looked even better. The top was transparent except for strategically placed sequins in a slightly swirly pattern, and it was completed by a light blue feather skirt that left very little to the imagination when she stood still and would reveal even more whilst dancing. I had a feeling that I would find it difficult to concentrate on the dancing and would want to stop and gawk at Bella instead.

"Can we run over the dance one last time?" Bella asked before she noticed that I was not alone. "Sorry, I can see you're busy. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Don't go, let me introduce you," I insisted. "Bella, these are my parents, Esme and Carlisle Cullen."

"Nice to meet you," Bella responded, shaking their hands.

"We've heard so much about you," Mum gushed.

"Pleasure to meet you," my father added.

"How are you finding _Strictly_, dear?" Mum asked Bella.

"I'm enjoying it, which is all thanks to Edward. I'm very lucky to have him as a partner," Bella replied, flashing me a big smile as she spoke.

"I'm so jealous of you all. I wish I could dance on TV. I used to be such a good dancer, but then I got pregnant…" Mum reminisced, "I don't regret having Edward and Alice at all, but I wish I'd had all of my fifteen minutes of fame!"

"You can have mine if you want," Bella quipped.

Dad and I laughed, but Mum looked shocked. "Enjoy it while it lasts," she advised.

"I'll do my best," Bella responded whilst rolling her eyes at me.

"You were famous, darling, you danced on the stage," my dad chipped in.

"Yes, but I never got to dance on TV!" Mum moaned.

"We had better do some last minute practising, but would you like to go out for a meal after the show?" I asked.

"We're going out with the cast and crew tonight," Bella reminded me.

"Oh yeah, are you staying in London tonight? If so, do you want to do Sunday lunch?" I amended.

"We're staying with Alice and Jasper tonight, so that would be lovely. Will you be joining us, Bella?" Mum prompted.

"I would hate to get in the way," demurred Bella.

"You wouldn't be an imposition," Dad encouraged.

"Are you inviting Jasper and Alice's partners?" Bella enquired.

"No, but you'd be my guest. Please come," I entreated, looking directly into her eyes. I was getting very fed up of being the single one at family meals. Having Bella there would stop me from feeling like a third wheel.

"Okay then," she agreed.

"Fantastic! We better be going. Good luck for the dance and the singing. I'm sure you'll do fantastically well. We'll try and catch you after the show," said Mum, "It was lovely meeting you, Bella."

"It was nice meeting you too," Bella replied, and she was enveloped in a hug by Mum.

"Good luck, son," Dad said. As he gave me a hug, he whispered into my ear, "I like this one and I think you really like her; don't let her slip through your fingers."

I was a bit dumbfounded at my dad's insight, but I was very grateful at his encouragement.

Bella got a handshake from my dad and then they left us.

"Can I have a bit more warning before I meet your parents in future?" Bella asked. "I'd like to be wearing a bit more than this!"

Lining up backstage, Bella didn't seem quite as terrified as she had the previous week. She was still clearly nervous, but she was dancing along to the theme music with everyone else.

For my part, I was more nervous than I had ever been before, and it was only made worse by the fact that we were going to be the last couple to perform. I just wanted to get it over and done with.

I went through the motions of the intro and watched the other couples dance, but I hardly noticed anything. I thought I did quite a good job of covering up my inattention, but Bella could tell I wasn't being myself and kept trying to distract me. She repeatedly commented on some of the things that were happening.

It was really nice to see how Bella was beginning to bond with some of the other celebs and was really pleased with how well they did. She went so far as to hi-five Seth when he came back after his dance.

Even watching Sir Michael actually trip over his own feet and send Charlotte and himself flying across the dance floor during their quickstep did little to distract me from what I was about to do.

I managed to pay attention to Alice and James' dance and was pleased to note that this time he kept his hands to himself. It was evident that Jasper was on tenterhooks about that one, too. I wondered if Alice had introduced him to our parents and whether that had made a difference to his behaviour. Nevertheless, I was grateful that he acted professionally. The judges noticed, too, and commented on the improvement in his hands.

Bella tried all of her tricks to snap me out of my funk and even managed at one point.

"These songs are so boring. They're all clichés. 'She's Always a Woman' is a good song but becomes so generic in this context," Bella moaned.

"I know. But we'll make up for their boredom." I smiled, "We're cool."

"We're cool? Really?" asked Bella, amazed. "I've never been cool,"

"Well, we're certainly the coolest couple here," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Awesome. Are we indie? Indie is so cool."

"We're not indie, but we could be. If you danced in a fugly vintage dress with a big visible tattoo and wearing socks with your shoes and I wore Converse, a suit without a tie and geek glasses."

"Can we do that? That sounds ace." Bella looked so enthusiastic at that prospect. She was practically jumping out of her seat with excitement.

I shook my head. "I don't think the producers would allow it."

"Damn. That sounds like so much fun." Bella sighed.

Finally everyone else had danced and it was our turn.

"And now what everybody has been waiting for, our big surprise of the evening and a _Strictly_ first, Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen dancing the rumba to 'Just Can't Get Enough' performed live for you by Edward himself." Bruce announced, "Last week it was Bella who was in need of the Dutch courage, but this week it's Edward. He was so white I was worried he was a vampire! But the garlic on my breath didn't ward him off, so I guess he's okay! Anyway, here they are in rehearsals."

The camera cut to clips from our rehearsals and I took the chance to snap out of my funk and support Bella.

I looked at Bella and took a deep breath. She smiled and winked at me.

"I'll dance like nobody is watching, provided you sing like no one is listening. Deal?" Bella asked and held her hand out to me.

"Deal," I agreed and shook her hand vigorously before pulling her in for a big hug. "By the way, I thought you were the sexiest woman I'd ever seen before I got the chance to get to know you. Since then you've got even sexier. Dance like you know that." Bella looked at me dumbfounded.

"Can Isabella Swan and her dance partner Edward Cullen take to the stage, please," the voiceover announced.

Bella regained her senses and smiled at me whilst we walked over to our starting positions.

The music started and we began to rumba. Bella was magnificent, so sexy it was difficult to concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing.

Bella shimmied around me and it was time for me to start singing. I took a deep breath and began.

"When I'm with you, baby, I go out of my head,

I just can't get enough, I just can't get enough."

I concentrated on Bella and sang and danced just for her. It was like we were in a little bubble.

All too soon, I sang the last line, "I just can't get enough," and dipped Bella by her neck.

We held our positions for a couple of seconds and there was silence. You could have heard a pin drop. I helped Bella up and she whispered, "I thought that went really well." A whoop of applause rang out and everyone stood up and started cheering.

"We did it!" I yelled, lifting Bella up in a big hug and swung her around.

"No, _you_ did it," she said, hugging me back.

"Alright, put her down now and come over to get judged," Bruce insisted.

We walked over hand in hand to the judges with big smiles on our faces.

"I take it you're pleased with how that went?" asked Bruce.

"I have no idea how the dance went, but I know the singing was fantastic," Bella said.

"That it was. That it was. The man can sing, the man can dance, if he were a comedian I'd fear for my job!" joked Bruce. "Bruno, I think we'll start with you."

"I thought you two were smouldering last week; this week you two are a full blown forest fire. Do you need to get a room? I don't know if it was Edward singing or what, but whatever it was, keep it up!" Bruno yelled.

Bella blushed fuchsia at the comment.

Alesha was rather less embarrassing. "Wow, Edward, your singing was amazing, and I know some people who I'm sure would love to give you a record deal. Your singing aside, you two danced so beautifully together. Bella, well done on the last move, that is a very tough one and to manage it in the second week it's astonishing."

Craig went over the technicalities. "Bella, your legs weren't quite straight enough, and you needed to sit into your hips a little bit more, but apart from that it was pretty good."

Lastly, Len gave us his verdict, "Edward, you have a fantastic voice. That was very impressive and I liked how you intertwined it with choreography. Bella, you did very well for a second week. However, you do need to improve in the ways that Craig mentioned. You portrayed a couple in love marvellously. Do you have any acting experience, Bella?"

"No."

"Well, either you're naturally talented or you're not acting…"

Bella blushed bright red.

"Stop picking on her, Len!" Bruce chided. "Why don't you two join Tess to get your scores?"

We rushed backstage and over to Tess.

"That was fantastic, and if you release that song, Edward, I'll be first in line to buy it," Tess commented.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling embarrassed.

"The results are now in. Over to the judges," said Tess.

"Craig Revel Horwood," the voiceover said.

"As it's a dance show, I'm only marking you on the dance, not the singing. Seven," Craig said.

I hugged Bella; that was a good score for week two, especially for Craig.

"Alesha Dixon."

"I would love to include the singing in it, but I'm afraid I can't. But that neck dip was awesome. Eight!"

"Len Goodman."

"Keep up the hard work. Eight!"

"Bruno Tolioni."

"I hope that all your dances are this hot. Eight!"

I hugged Bella even tighter. Thirty-one was an excellent score and we were top of the leader-board. But more importantly than that, I had conquered my fear. I had spent so long keeping my love of music secret, keeping my talent secret. Then Bella came along and forced me to embrace my fears. I was so grateful to have her as my partner. None of my previous partners had cared about me; none had tried to really get to know me or tried to help me. Bella was different and has changed my life forever.

While the people at home voted, they were kept entertained by behind the scenes footage of us practising and then had the musical stylings of Robbie Williams and Gary Barlow who were performing their deadly dull new single. Emmett and Rose were the lucky professionals to get to dance to that one.

When the cameras were not filming us, I had a very excited Alice to contend with; she would not stop telling me how proud she was of me. Thankfully, Bella kept deflecting her by talking about fashion. Eventually Jasper pulled her away from me entirely, but only after she insisted that we would be celebrating properly after the show.

The time came for the weekly torture of announcing the results. The producers insisted on making it as stressful an experience as possible. Each pair of dancers stood underneath a spotlight and in random order they announced who was through, down to the final two.

"If we call your name you are automatically through to the next round and don't have to dance again to secure your place in next week's show," Bruce informed us. As if we or the audience weren't fully aware of how it worked. "But two couples will be in the dance off."

"James Kelly and Alice Whitlock," Tess revealed.

"Leah Clearwater and Sam Uley," said Bruce.

"Jessica Stanley and Jasper Whitlock."

"Seth Clarke and Victoria Morgan."

"Peter Trelawney and Tanya Palin."

"Jacob Black and Rosalie Hale."

Shit. We hadn't been called yet and there were only three couples left. I was covered in a cold sweat and Bella was very tense. Normally I wasn't too bothered when I got kicked out of the competition, but then I didn't particularly like my partners. Now I was desperate to get more time with Bella.

They were dragging out the dramatic pause and I was very close to yelling at them to get the fuck on with it when Tess finally opened her mouth.

"The final couple safely through is Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen," she announced.

Well thank Christ for that. I gave Bella a massive hug of relief.

"I thought we were done for," she whispered.

"We'd have survived even if we were in the dance off, it was a bloody good dance," I told her.

"And an even better song," she replied.

"So that means that in the dance off we have Sir Michael Newton and Charlotte Dixie, and Kate Lewis and Laurent Perot. Kate and Laurent were the first to dance tonight so they will be dancing first again. Please take to the stage," Bruce instructed.

Kate and Laurent danced all right but hadn't really improved. Sir Michael and Charlotte, however, hugely improved because Sir Michael didn't trip them up. Ultimately that wasn't enough to keep them in and three out of four judges decided that Sir Michael and Charlotte were not good enough to stay in the competition.

I can't say I was disappointed to see Sir Michael go. I hadn't spent a lot of time talking to him and when I had, I found him to be a self-important tosser. Added to that he kept looking at Bella in ways that I did not approve of…

During their goodbye dance, we joined them on the dance floor to say farewell, but I'm not convinced that anyone was really sorry to see them go, besides Peter who would miss Charlotte. She'd be around quite frequently demonstrating professional dances, so he wouldn't miss her much.

The show ended for the week and the performers and crew went for the typical debriefing. Usually it consisted of self-congratulations on a good show and more farewells to the losers.

I was surprised when Alice stood up and started to speak.

"We all agreed to go out on the town after each show and I accepted the responsibility of organising that. This week we're going slightly further afield to somewhere that I'm really excited about," she informed everyone with a big smile on her face. "Bella's mother owns a bar in Brighton and she's organised a whole _Strictly_ themed evening, and we're the guests of honour! There is a coach that will take us to Brighton and back if you want, and it leaves in an hour. If you could all stay in your costumes, that would be great. We'll see you in the coach!"

Bella had listened to the entire speech, turning increasingly white and her normally plump lips had become a thin line. She was not happy.

Sure enough, as soon as the briefing was over, Bella cornered Alice.

"Alice, what're you playing at?" she demanded.

"Organising a great party," Alice insisted.

"There are plenty of good bars and clubs in London. It is really not necessary to embarrass me by taking us to _Scouting_," Bella argued.

"I know, but Renee has organised a great night. We're getting free drinks and will be judging their very own dancing competition!"

"Why did you not tell anyone it was a gay bar?"

"I thought it would be a nice surprise," Alice claimed, not entirely convincingly. "Anyway, you're coming. Renee can't wait to see you."

"Ugh! You are so infuriating!" cried Bella as she stormed off.

I ran off after Bella.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I really don't want to be going to _Scouting_. Particularly not dressed in this thing," she explained.

"Why not?"

"Several reasons, firstly lots of people there remember me as an awkward twenty year old and I'm bound to get lots of comments about how I've grown up. Secondly, it's Paul's favourite club. It is quite likely he'll be there. I don't want to see him, particularly not dressed like a fairy whore."

"I'd like to remind you what you said to me earlier this week. The chance to stick two, possibly metaphorical, fingers up at your critics feels fantastic and should not be missed. Show Paul how well you're doing despite him. Failing that, you're wearing heels that could deliver a killer blow," I argued.

"Do I really have much choice in the matter? If I bail neither Mum nor Alice will let me forget it. We had better get ready, or more accurately start drinking." Bella gave me a hug and walked off to her dressing room.

I in turn went to my dressing room and found my parents there.

"We're so proud of you!" Mum cried, running at me and almost knocking me on the floor with her hug.

"Thanks, Mum," I responded sheepishly.

"You were really good, son," Dad said, slapping me on the back.

"I hadn't realised you were so good. You were always good, but that was phenomenal. Oh! We can all sing carols around the piano this Christmas!" Mum was practically jumping up and down at this prospect.

Dad tried to calm her down. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Anyway, Alice tells us that you young ones are going out tonight. We better let you get ready for it. We'll see you tomorrow at Alice's for lunch. Alice is cooking, so it should be interesting."

"It's not just for the under thirties, you know. You two can come if you want," I offered.

"I'm not sure a gay club is my scene. I'm more of a Blackpool Tower Ballroom kind of girl," Mum replied. " We'll see you tomorrow. Bring Bella with you; I want to get to know her properly."

"I'll see you tomorrow with Bella in tow. Is one p.m. okay?"

"Sounds lovely, see you then. Once again, great job today," said Mum while she gave me a hug.

"Thanks, Mum. See you, Dad." I gave Dad a hug and they both left me alone.

I sat down and let out a long sigh, suddenly feeling tired. I didn't get that much time to myself these days and it was nice to have a few minutes alone to allow everything to sink in.

My repose was interrupted by a knock on the door.

I huffed and yelled, "Come in." Why bother getting up unnecessarily?

Thankfully it was just Bella carrying a sizeable bottle and glasses filled with ice.

"I don't think I'll be able to get through this sober. Care to join me in a pre-gay club binge?" she offered. "I've got some Glenfiddich. Not my usual choice of whisky but it was all I could get at short notice."

"I would love some."

Bella poured two generous measures and handed me one.

"To another week," she toasted.

"To another week," I responded and clinked her glass.

"Is it too early to ask what we're facing this week?" Bella enquired.

"Yes. We should be enjoying ourselves tonight. No work talk," I insisted.

"We're going to a _Strictly_-themed night at a gay bar. It will be neither enjoyable nor will it be possible to avoid work," Bella argued.

"Fair point. Foxtrot."

"Ugh. Really? I hate the foxtrot," Bella moaned.

"Why?"

"It is so dull. It's just more romantic crap. And the music selection is always so boring," she complained.

"It doesn't have to be that dull."

"Really?"

"Really. It originated as a dance for teenagers in the 1920s. It was meant to be upbeat. But then it became elegant, and then boring," I explained.

"So we could go for a more original style of foxtrot?"

"Indeed."

"How?"

"Well, we could either do an original foxtrot or update the original meaning for today," I clarified.

"We could do it to rock music?" Bella looked very excited at the prospect.

"Yeah. But we should try and tell a story through it, preferably a love story." I tried to sound professional, but I really wanted to perform a love story with Bella.

Bella pondered this for a moment while sipping her whisky. "Could we make a statement about modern times?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"Call me jaded and cynical if you will, but romance doesn't really exist anymore. Men, and women, use it solely to get into their partners' knickers. Long-term couples don't bother at all. Romance only exists in fiction. It is archaic," Bella proposed.

"You clearly haven't been treated well. Romance is mostly just being considerate and having plain good manners. It still exists. I'm romantic," I defended.

"Alright then, how do you display romance today?"

"I am thoughtful to women, bring flowers around regularly, open doors, pay for dinner, take them dancing, listen, flatter, send love notes. That kind of thing. It varies on the girl, romance is very individual."

"Well ,the women you date are very lucky, but I think you are the exception that proves the rule. I accept that there were reasons why Paul wasn't romantic, but my female friends' blokes aren't romantic either," Bella stated, "I think we should do a dance that reflects the normal state of romance today, and I have the perfect song in mind: 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga."

"That is a really good song. But I'm not convinced that that is what romance is really like."

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. How about we run a mini-survey tonight about romance and you then choreograph a dance based on the results of that survey," Bella bargained.

"Alright, deal. But I'll win," I bragged.

Bella leaned in closer to me. "Whatever, prepare to have your eyes opened."

"Bring it," I whispered and leaned in towards her. Our faces were mere inches apart; I could've leaned forward so easily…

Thankfully we were interrupted by a knock on the door before we did anything we may have later regretted. We both sat bolt upright as Alice stuck her head round the door.

"You're still here! The coach is leaving in five minutes and you have to be on it. Get a bloody move on!" Alice yelled and virtually dragged us out kicking and screaming. Luckily, Bella managed to grab the bottle of whisky.

A/N:

I'd like to conduct a little survey on romance of my own. The next chapter is entirely written with the expectation of the survey section because I'm rather hoping that you'll answer help me come up with some of the opinions of the dancers. I'm way too opinionated and one-sided (for the record Bella is voicing mine and I admit to being very cynical).

Please answer these questions in a review or PM (either in your opinion or the opinions that you think the characters will likely hold):

1. What does romance mean to you?

2. Do you think romance is important in a relationship?

3. Can only men be romantic?

4. Is romance a thing of the past? Or is it alive and well?

5. Any other comments on romance would also be appreciated.

Glossary for the non-British readers

Dutch courage: Drinking alcohol to improve self-confidence.

Knickers: Ladies underpants.

Snifter: A swig/small mouthful of alcohol.

Tosser: Technically speaking it means one who masturbates. Used to mean an idiot.

Whisky: The correct British spelling. The Irish (and thus American) spelling had an extra e. No idea why…


	9. Scouting for Romance

A/N: Thanks to smudgen2008, Kimmie-LOVE71, and LiLi82 for answering my questions about romance. You should be able to spot some characters sporting your opinions.

Sorry for the delay, real life is crazily busy at the moment (I've just moved hemispheres!). I'll try to get the new chapter written asap but unfortunately furnishing my flat and finding a job take priority.

There is a lot of British-English used in this chapter. If you can't work out what it means check out the glossary at the bottom.

Alas, I do not own Twilight or Strictly Come Dancing.

* * *

BPOV

Edward had agreed to let us find out what romance means to ordinary people, but we still had to work out how to do it. We were on a coach surrounded by people from _Strictly_, and so it was the perfect time for us to conduct the research; our participants were captive, and largely drunk. The question was how to do it.

As I mulled it over, I recalled a novel I had begun to write a few years ago before giving up in frustration; I hadn't been able to get the characterisations right and it just hadn't worked. We could use that novel as the perfect cover story. People tended to be flattered at being used as research participants for books, and I was sure that the people on the coach would be no exception.

I grabbed my moleskin notebook out of my bag and turned to Edward.

"You carry a notebook? And a moleskin one at that?" he exclaimed, "What a stereotype!"

"Yes, yes. I know, but you never know when inspiration will strike and they're really good little notebooks," I defended. " Anyway, I've worked out how we're going to get people's opinions on romance. Follow my lead."

I stood up and walked to the front of the bus. Trying to appear as sober and professional as possible, I took a deep breath. "Excuse me. If I could have your attention for a moment," I called out and the bus quieted down. "Thanks. I was hoping you could all help me. I'm writing a new novel that is a study on how romance is viewed in the modern world and I need your help. If you don't mind I'd love to come and ask your opinions. What it is, how important you think it is in a relationship, whether it really exists, that kind of thing. Edward has agreed to be my assistant, so we'll be coming round and asking some questions. If you don't want to be involved, just say so. I want to thank you all in advance, and if this novel gets published, I will remember you in the acknowledgements. Thanks!"

Edward looked impressed. "So, how do we go about this?"

"We make our way around the bus asking everyone the same questions. Do you want to be the scribe or shall I?"

"Um, I don't know what to write. Would you mind doing it?" he asked, looking unsure of himself for once.

"No, that's okay. Let's start with Alice and Jasper."

Edward had a knowing smile on his face. He clearly thought that he would win this one, and he was probably right — those two were insufferably in love. Every time I saw them together I felt hugely jealous. But starting with them would get the worst over sooner rather than later for me and temporarily placate Edward.

We walked over to where Alice and Jasper were sitting and filed into some empty seats near them.

"Can we ask you guys some questions?" I ventured.

"Of course! This is so exciting. Being mentioned in the acknowledgements of an Isabella Swan novel…" Alice gushed.

"Okay…" I responded, blushing. "What do you think 'romance' means?"

"Well," Alice started, "I think there are two different kinds of romance. There are the traditional romantic gestures like flowers, chocolates and candles, etc. And then there is the less obvious things like holding hands, pecks on the cheek and telling your partner you love them, that kind of thing."

"Is romance important in a relationship?" Edward asked.

"Not the big romantic gestures. They're nice but I don't think they're necessary," Jasper answered, "But showing someone that you love them is vital."

"I don't think we'd survive without it, would we?" Alice looked into Jasper's eyes in a sickeningly loving expression and added, "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetness," Jasper responded in an equally saccharine fashion.

"I think we'll leave the lovebirds in peace," I suggested and we left them to it.

Next we talked to Emmett and Rosalie.

"These two may tell you more than you want to hear," Edward warned, which worried me somewhat, and soon enough his prophecy turned out to be true.

"Romance takes many different forms in many different relationships. We like to express our love sexually," Rose informed us without a hint of embarrassment.

"Just the other day I got home and was greeted by Rose cooking naked… Now that was romantic," Emmett recalled. "Food and sex, what more can a man ask for?"

"Right." I tried and failed, to get the image of Rosalie naked but for an apron out of my mind. Wanting to keep up an air of professionalism, I steered the conversation in a different direction. "So, women can be romantic too?"

"Oh yeah, this is the twenty-first century after all. Women are now equal in all ways," Rosalie replied.

"With great power comes great responsibility," Emmett chimed in.

We had a lot of people to chat to so we thanked them and continued doing the rounds.

Not everyone had such a sunny view of romance, Jessica, for instance, had a very different point of view on romance. "I'll freely admit to being high maintenance. This," she said, gesturing to herself, "don't come for free. Men have to put in time and effort to get me. I expect to be romanced."

"How long does the romance last?" Edward pressed.

"It lasts for as long as the relationship does. If I'm not treated properly, the relationship ends."

"If this is too personal you don't have to answer, but how long was your longest relationship?" I enquired.

"A year, and it didn't end because of lack of romance." Jessica looked slightly sad at this memory so I changed the subject.

"So, if the guy brings the romance to the relationship, what do you bring?"

"Me. It takes a lot of time and effort to look this good. I also bring witty repartee and mad skills in the bedroom. You may think that the kinds of relationships I go for are anti-feminist, and maybe they are, but historically men courted beautiful women and the relationships functioned well. I don't see the need to change that." Jessica was right. I didn't agree with her, but I could see that she had a point. Traditionally men had been the pursuers and long and healthy relationships had sprung up from that. Jessica had clearly thought about this and I had to respect her for her opinions.

James, however, deserved no such respect. "If a girl needs to be wooed she had better be worth it," James argued." If I've pursued a girl, I expect it to pay off in the end, and it probably won't. The more time and effort it takes, the more I expect. There was this one girl in Melbourne—she was a fucking stunner but also a stuck-up bitch—she kept turning down men because they were wearing runners and not shoes. Anyway, a friend of mine bet me that I couldn't fuck her. I spent weeks buying her flowers and coffee, complimenting her, all that shit. I kept asking her out but she kept declining. She finally agreed and we go on a date and I discover she uses the fucking 'three date rule.' On the third date I finally get to nail her. And, you know what? She was fucking awful in bed. Sure, she had magnificent knockers but she just lay there and expected me to do all the work. I won the bet but learned my lesson; no woman is worth that much hassle."

After James, Angela and Ben were a breath of fresh air. "At it's heart, romance is just about being thoughtful towards your partner; it's about showing them how much you love them. People appreciate different things and so being thoughtful and romantic can take different forms," Angela suggested.

"Did Angela ever tell you how I proposed?" Ben asked and we shook our heads. "She would've probably lied to you anyway. She is a bit embarrassed about her geekiness." Angela blushed. "We're big Scrabble fans, so I laid out 'Marry Me' on a Scrabble board. I also lit candles and cooked a fancy meal, but the Scrabble was the important part."

"It was very romantic," Angela added, grinning at Ben.

Next we sidled up to Leah and Sam. "Is it our turn for the interrogation now?" Sam joked.

"Before you start I want to make something clear," Leah stated. "Guys only use romance to get into our knickers. Once they're in there on a regular basis they think they don't have to work for it any more, so they stop bothering. If a guy is being romantic he only has one thing on his mind."

"Are you saying that I only bring you flowers when I want to get laid?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"You have to admit there is a certain correlation there. You buy flowers and we have sex," Leah shot back.

"Just because it is the outcome does not mean it was the aim. Not that I minded the end result. Besides that, we've had plenty of sex when I haven't bought you flowers," Sam reasoned.

"See, it's started already. A few years down the line, if we're still together, you will have long given up buying me flowers or romancing me in any way. By that point, washing up will be your equivalent of foreplay," Leah argued.

Edward and I just sat back and watched their exchange. It was way better than any of the other interviews we'd conducted.

"One, I do think we'll be together years down the line," Sam replied, looking directly into Leah's eyes and making her smile broadly whilst blushing slightly. "Two, I consider myself to be a very romantic man. I like to make romantic gestures. I won't stop expressing my love for you, even after we have kids."

With that Leah unbuckled her seat belt and jumped onto Sam's lap, straddling him and manically snogging him. Edward and I took it as our cue to leave.

As we sat back into our seats I looked at Edward. "I've got to admit, I'm a bit jealous of them."

"Why? Do you have a thing for Sam?" he queried.

"No! But no one has ever looked at me like that or said those things to me."

Edward looked me straight in the eyes. "Someone will, and soon, I'm sure of it."

"Why? Did Alice tell you that?"

"Yes, but I have it on even better authority than that. You are an amazing woman, Bella Swan. You deserve to be loved like that—to be romanced. Any man who doesn't fall head over heels for you is a fool."

"Thank you, fool, that was very sweet of you," I responded.

"Why are you calling me a fool?"

"Because as you said, any man who doesn't love me is a fool, and you don't love me, so you're a fool."

Edward locked eyes with me and held my gaze, but didn't respond. It was a little disconcerting actually, like I was missing something obvious.

Before I could think of something to say to break the ice, the bus stopped and I looked out of the window to see the decaying pier and the inky black sea. We had arrived.

The doors opened and my mother jumped on. She was wearing a very revealing dress covered in pink sequins and she had a feather boa around her shoulders. She looked like a drag queen, and I was fairly sure that one of them probably dressed her. She gave Alice a hug and waved at me. I meekly waved back.

"Hello everyone and welcome to Scouting for Boys!" Mum exclaimed. Everyone looked a bit confused at the odd name. I don't think that most people were aware that it was a gay bar. "I'm Renee, Bella's mum and owner of the bar. We're so excited to have you here. The place is absolutely jam packed with guys dressed in sequins, feathers and transparent shirts, and they are all super excited." The fact that it was a gay bar seemed to dawn on people and I saw a few guys turn white. "The dancers and judges get free drinks all night and the rest of you get 50% off drinks if you wear one of the wristbands I'll hand out. So, let's go in and get the party started!"

Alice jumped up and started shepherding everyone off the coach. I couldn't help but hear some grumbles.

"We came all this way for a fucking gay bar? If I wanted to get fucked by a fag I'd have stayed in London!" James moaned.

"I think someone is overcompensating," Leah muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

James heard the comment, too, and quickly stood very close to Leah, looking at her threateningly. "What did you just say?"

"I suggested that you do not feel secure enough in your sexuality, so you are being homophobic in an effort to ensure that no one dares suggest that you're gay. Which, by the way, is entirely flawed logic because everyone now thinks you have homosexual tendencies," Leah explained.

"I'm not a fucking bender!" James roared and grabbed Leah's arm.

"You keep telling yourself that." Leah gently removed James' hand from her arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "If you want to convince us of that, I recommend that you come inside and treat everyone in there with respect." Leah paused and then her eyes glinted evilly before she continued. "Oh, and for the record, no one is one hundred percent straight, so don't feel bad or anything."

After that comment James felt the need to reiterate his previous statement. "I'm not gay!"

Suddenly the song "Gay Bar" by Electric Six started playing on the stereo in the coach and it seemed to relax the entire group. Leah started singing and dancing along to the tune.

"Girl!  
I wanna take you to a gay bar,  
I wanna take you to a gay bar,  
I wanna take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar.

"Let's start a war, start a nuclear war,  
At the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar.  
Wow!  
At the gay bar.

"Now tell me do ya, a do ya have any money?  
I wanna spend all your money,  
At the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar.

"I've got something to put in you,  
I've got something to put in you,  
I've got something to put in you,  
At the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar.  
Wow!

"You're a superstar, at the gay bar.  
You're a superstar, at the gay bar.  
Yeah! You're a superstar, at the gay bar.  
You're a superstar, at the gay bar.  
Superstar.  
Super, super, superstar!"

By the time she had finished the song, most of the bus had joined in and the atmosphere had improved considerably. Naturally Edward was the best singer of the bunch, and his eyes lit up while singing "I've got something to put in you." The coach had been shaking as people bounced up and down in time to the music and as the song ended, everyone happily walked into Scouting.

It appeared to not have changed very much since I was last there three years ago. The main room still had the shoddy wood paneling in an attempt to make it look like a scout's hut, and there were prominent fleur-de-lis and complicated knots on the walls. The staff uniforms appeared to have been made even smaller; I was certainly grateful not to be working there any longer. That being said, the outfit I was wearing wasn't exactly modest either.

"So, what do you think?" I asked Edward.

"I'm lost for words. Your mum has certainly gone all out for the theme, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, and you haven't even seen the food or cocktail menus yet," I informed him.

"Really?"

"Just you wait and see. I'll be back in a minute." I walked over to the bar to retrieve some food and drinks for us.

As soon as I got to the bar, I was accosted by Brian, Mum's longstanding assistant manager.

"Bella! Look at you! Even more gorgeous in real life than on TV," he gushed and kissed me on both cheeks. "What can I get you, duck?"

"Excuse me! I think you'll find I was first!" interrupted an angry drag queen to my left. She was wearing an outfit made entirely of feathers that was not dissimilar to mine.

"I know, but do you know who she is? This is Isabella Swan, novelist, fucking awesome dancer, and daughter of the owner of this fine establishment! You've just been trumped," Brian argued, making me blush. The queen was looking at me, shocked.

"I'm sorry for barging in, Brian, please serve her first," I demurred.

While Brian begrudgingly served the queen, I eagerly looked over the drink and food choices.

"Thank you, and sorry for being rude," apologised the queen. "For what it's worth, I think you are fabulous. You and Edward are my favourite couple; your dances are amazing. I have to know, how do you manage to keep your hands off him? That man is sex personified. I would love to sink my—"

"It's not the easiest thing I've ever done, but I manage," I responded, cutting off the queen before she could continue. "Is it too late for food?" I asked Brian.

"For you, never. What do you want?"

I knew that the dancers were starving and I wanted to line their stomachs, so I ordered a mountain of food for us all.

I returned to Edward to find him fending off the advances of half a dozen men. The moment he saw me, he looked into my eyes, terrified, in a silent plea for my help. I was only too happy to oblige.

"Back off, gentlemen, this one is mine," I said, forcing my way through the huddle of men surrounding Edward, slapping away any encroaching hands. I put my arm around his waist as he did the same to me and handed him a drink that he immediately necked.

"Thanks for saving a damsel in distress. What was this?" he asked, holding up the now empty tin mug I had given him.

"It's a cocktail called Bush Tea and all you need to know is that it contains alcohol," I informed him, leaving out the fact that it also contained eucalyptus leaves.

"It's good. Why is it in a tin mug?"

"Because those are the mugs you take camping, of course. A scout wouldn't drink from a cocktail glass."

"A scout wouldn't drink a cocktail," he reasoned.

"Some allowances have to be made, otherwise the bar would be full of scouts," I retorted.

"What are you drinking?"

"Hot chocolate and marshmallows, with added alcohol naturally! Want to try some?" I offered.

Edward put his lips to my mug and took a sip.

"Mmm… Just like Mum used to make." Edward laughed. "Would you like to dance?"

"Like I could ever deny you!" I downed my drink as fast as the hot liquid would allow and took his hand.

Edward led me to the dance floor and we boogied on down until we were interrupted by someone tapping on Edward's shoulder.

"May I have this dance?" a man asked me. Edward and I stopped dancing.

I turned to Edward with an apologetic shrug. "Sure."

"Thanks." He promptly took Edward into his arms and started dancing.

To say that Edward was surprised was an understatement. We had both made the erroneous assumption that I was the person he wanted to dance with. Edward looked slightly horrified at being led around the dance floor by a man and was trying desperately to find a polite way to put an end to it. I was also trying to work out how to step in when I was accosted by a familiar and unwelcome face.

"Isabella Swan, as I live and breathe!"

"Paul," I responded curtly.

"You are looking fabulous. I love this dress. How are you, darling?" he asked and kissed me on both cheeks. "I love the show! I tell everyone that I meet that I used to live with you."

Years of repressed anger came to the forefront of my mind. I could not believe that he would still think we were friends after the way he treated me. "Do you also tell them that you convinced me that I was, in your words, 'as sexy as a slug'?" I asked poisonously.

Paul looked flabbergasted.

"Do you tell them that you took my virginity, and then decided that the only thing I was good at doing in bed was giving blowjobs? Did you tell them that you never once made me come?" Paul stood there as still as a stone. "Well, did you?"

"No," he admitted, shamefaced.

I took a deep breath and looked him square in the eyes. "Next time you brag about knowing me, I want you to tell them that you used me. You passed your insecurities about your sexuality onto me. You treated me like shit to make yourself feel better. It's taken me years to come to terms with that, but I finally have."

"Did I really treat you that badly? I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that. Is there any way I could make it up to you?" he grovelled.

Evil Bella, who I usually kept locked away, took over before I could stop her. She grabbed his meat and two veg and twisted them violently. "Never tell someone that they are not sexy ever again. Everyone is sexually attractive to someone else." Suddenly Evil Bella thought of a line from _The Knights Tale_ and she started to run away with herself. "If I ever hear of you treating anyone like you did me, I will immortalise you in fiction. Everyone will know the size of your penis, how you have to shave everyday because you have bum fluff like a fifteen year old boy, and that you have a natural monobrow. Every cruel word you ever said to me will be written down for future generations. Is that how you want to be remembered?" I twisted his family jewels once more for good measure.

"I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I promise to be nice from now on," he whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "Please let go of me."

"Do you agree to be nice to everyone who comes onto you, no matter how unattractive you personally find them?"

"I do."

I released him. "Now get lost, you wanker."

I looked up to see that an audience had built up around us. The music seemed quieter and I wondered how much of our conversation people had heard. Everyone looked stunned and a burly bouncer was staring at me with his arms crossed. This could not be good.

"Miss, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he said sternly. I nodded and went to follow him.

"You most certainly will not ask her to leave." I turned around, shocked to see my mother in her sequinned dress, standing with her hands on her hips giving the bouncer the same look she gave me when she caught me aged five, covered in chocolate after I found her secret stash of Cadburys. "She is my daughter and I can assure you that this piece of shit deserved everything he got." She turned to Paul. "I only found out this week just how badly you treated Bella, had I known before I'd have banned you years ago. But now I can, so get out, you're barred!"

People around us cheered and Paul was led out of the bar. I turned to Mum and gave her a big hug. "Thanks for having my back."

"You know I'm always here for you. But please don't make assaulting my customers a regular occurrence." Mum smiled. "I was coming to find you anyway. Brian said that you had ordered enough food to feed an army and it's now ready in the canteen."

"Thanks, Mum." I kissed her on the cheeks and went to round up the troops.

I quickly found some dancers and before long the message had got round to everyone was crowded around the picnic benches stuffing their faces.

The kitchen had outdone themselves. There were tables full of camp fare. Mum prided herself on doing things as accurately as possible and as such, the menu was made up of only things that could be cooked on a camp. There was even a fireplace in the kitchen to make it authentic. I hadn't had s'mores for years and I dove straight in. I had forgotten what I was missing.

"Mmm! This is fantastic!" cried Emmett with his mouthful of a burger. "Bella, I love you."

"It's nice to know your affections can so easily be bought," I replied.

Once everyone's stomachs were well and truly lined, it was time for the dance competition. Thankfully all the judges except Len had come as well, and so they were doing the judging. All I had to do was watch and chat with some of the customers.

Mum had set up a little stage at the end of the main dance floor and there was a long queue of dancers.

One by one the dancers did their stuff in varying group sizes. There were no rules as to the style, and they varied hugely from ballroom to hip hop to plain lewd. The drag queens were by far the most entertaining, even if not on the whole technically very good.

While watching a particularly amusing act that had three drag queens dancing the waltz with one man all at the same time, Leah came up to me.

"Come on, Bella, we're up next." She took my hand and dragged me in the direction of the stage.

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"I signed us up," Leah stated.

"Why?"

"Because it'll be fun," Leah insisted. We walked past Sam and she grabbed a drink from him and handed it to me. "Here, have this."

I looked at it dubiously before accepting that I would inevitably be forced to dance with her and deciding that alcohol would help. I skulled it.

"So, how are we going to do this?" I enquired.

"We'll improv it."

I was now getting worried. "What are we dancing to?"

"You'll find out," she replied cryptically.

"Next up we have our very own Bella Swan dancing with Leah Clearwater," Mum announced and Leah pushed me onto the stage.

To say I was surprised to hear "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry came on, was not a strong enough statement. I looked wide-eyed with horror at Leah as she started to grind on me to cheers from the room.

I had a horrible feeling that I knew where this was going, and indeed that proved to be accurate. The moment the chorus started Leah took my head in her hands and planted a smacker on me. I was kissing a girl and I did not like it. Though she did indeed taste like cherry ChapStick. She was also altogether too enthusiastic with her tongue. When she pulled away, I was completely and utterly aghast and barely took in the whoops from the crowd. My eyes found Edward's and he looked as astonished as I was. He, like I, did not seem to know how to process what had happened.

Sam did not seem to mind at all. He yelled above the crowd at Leah, "Your boyfriend doesn't mind it. Please continue!"

Leah didn't try and get me to dance anymore, instead she took the microphone from Mum and said, "No offence to Bella, but I prefer kissing boys."

The crowd hollered and applauded while Leah took my hand and we curtseyed before hurriedly leaving the stage.

"What on earth was that all about?" I demanded.

"I'd never kissed a girl before and had always been curious," Leah explained, "Now seemed as good a time as any to try it out."

"It would have been polite to ask my permission first!"

"Yeah, but I thought you'd have said no."

"I would have!"

"Which is why I didn't ask," she explained.

We were suddenly surrounded by a vast array of dancers. Sam positively launched himself at Leah and started doing things that should not happen in polite society. I looked away and was accosted by Jake, Seth, Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper and Alice.

"Wow, Bella, just wow," was all Jake could utter.

"Anytime you feel like kissing a girl can I please recommend Rosie to you. She is fuckhot and a great kisser," Emmett suggested.

"Alice is also both of those things," Jasper chipped in eagerly.

"God, what is it about guys and girl-on-girl. I just don't get it!" I said, exasperated.

"It's double the fun. Four tits, two pussies, two bottoms, four legs. What is there not to love?" exclaimed Emmett, lost in his own little world.

"But if the women participating are real lesbians they won't let you get involved at all. They won't be interested in you. It is one area of sex where men are not permitted," I reasoned.

"Yeah, but if they're not real lesbians…" Seth was clearly also stuck in his own little fantasy.

"Emmett, happy early birthday," said Rose and she stepped closer to me. Everyone looked very confused until she suddenly put her lips onto mine and snogged me.

As she pulled away Alice decided to have a go, too. "Happy early Christmas, Jasper," she chirped before having a go as well.

Being a quiet, nerdy girl I had only kissed one person before I met Paul, and since Paul I'd kissed no one. So, in the space of a quarter of an hour I had kissed more women than I had ever kissed men. When I realised that, I was not a happy bunny.

"For fuck's sake! Can people please stop snogging me without being invited to? I am not a kissagram!" I yelled before running for the safety of bar.

Unfortunately, James and a very busty redhead with a prominent Adam's apple accosted me before I could get to the safety of the bar. "Bella, meet Sarah," introduced James. I politely shook her hand. "We were wondering if you wanted to join us for some fun tonight." He paused, nudged me with his elbow and in a stage whisper added, "Sarah has a pierced tongue." She winked at me.

I did not know how to respond to that so I just ran towards the bar before anyone else could proposition me.

I was downing my third tequila shot when Edward found me.

"Whoa! Slow down there. It's not a race," he chided.

"Quite a lot of things have happened tonight that I would rather wish hadn't," I explained. "Unfortunately I do not have a TARDIS, and so I cannot go back in time and leave myself a note telling me not to come tonight. The only option open to me is to drink to oblivion."

"If you can't beat them, join them," Edward decided. "Barkeep, three tequila shots!"

"Make that five!" I added.

Sunlight poured through the recently opened curtains and a big glass of water was noisily placed in front of me.

"Get up. You need to be getting back to London. Here, take these," Mum's voice was soft but commanding. She handed me two ibuprofens and two paracetamol. I swallowed them in one. "Are you up to eating?"

"No," I whimpered. My head throbbed like crazy. "What am I still doing here?"

"I couldn't let you catch the coach back, given the state you were in. Don't worry, Edward is still here, too. He was in just as bad as wankered as you were. Frankly you were all wasted but I only had space for two," Mum explained.

I nodded but quickly realised that was a mistake. Head movements should be kept to a minimum.

I looked down slowly and found that I was wearing my old Scouting uniform. "Mum? Why am I dressed like this?"

"You don't remember?" Mum giggled. "You and Edward decided to do body shots. Trouble was that neither of you had the requisite coordination and so more alcohol ended up on your clothes than in your mouths. Edward is wearing a uniform too."

This I had to see.

I managed to make my way down the stairs without falling down them, which considering how much the room was spinning was a miracle. I tried to remain as still and steady as possible but that went to shit the moment I saw Edward.

Standing up waiting for the toast to pop was Edward dressed in matching khaki hotpants and a tight-fitting, short-sleeved shirt. The whole outfit was accessorised with a neckerchief and some interesting badges.

"When did you get your blow job merit badge, Edward?" I enquired.

* * *

A/N:

Glossary

Bender: A homosexual. As in, someone who is not straight (heterosexual) is bent and thus a bender.

Cadburys: A brand of chocolate. You probably didn't need to be told that…

Duck: A term of endearment (usually used towards young women) in the North of England. As is love and pet. You do not have to know the person at all to get called it.

Downed: To drink all in one go.

Family jewels: Cock and balls.

Knockers: Breasts.

Meat and two veg: Cock and balls.

Monobrow: Unibrow.

Nailed: To have sex with.

Neck: To drink all of the contents of a receptacle in one go.

Runners: The Australian word for sneakers. Running shoes.

Paracetamol: Apparently called acetaminophen in the US. And yes, it is safe to take them with ibuprofen (I once had a doctor advised me to combine them). Just don't take prior to drinking. And consult your doctor first, I am not a health professional.

Shoddily: Badly made.

Skulled: To drink all of the contents of one's glass in one go. Technically an Australian and not a British word.

Snogging: French kissing.

TARDIS: The Doctor's time machine from Doctor Who. Stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space.

Wanker: Literally means someone who masturbates. Derogatory. Try using it in a sentence today. It is ace.


	10. The Morning After

Chapter 10: The Morning After

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180.

Sorry it has been a while; I've been very busy. I'll do my best to find more time to write.

**Contains some British slang terms. As usual there is a glossary at the bottom to help. **

EPOV

Sunday mornings should be spent lounging around in bed, reading the paper and drinking coffee. The most that anyone should do on a Sunday morning is stroll to the local shops for said paper and coffee. After all, God made Sundays a day of rest for a reason.

Sundays certainly should not be spent on trains —particularly not with a raging hangover and wearing a tiny excuse for a scouting uniform.

Renee had insisted that she had no other clothes that Bella and I would fit into, so we had no choice but to wear the old uniforms. She had even driven us to the train station so we had no chance to buy new clothes to wear. I was 99% sure that I had done nothing to deserve any of the numerous badges I had on my uniform, least of all the blowjobs one. I certainly didn't know semaphore and yet I had that badge sewn to my sleeve.

The only upside to the whole debacle was that I got to spend two hours admiring how unbelievably sexy Bella looked in her uniform. She always looked beautiful and in the _Strictly_ dresses she looked gorgeous, but in this, she looked stunning. It was all I could do not to stare down her cleavage across the table.

I was unsure as to why I had thought it was a good idea to get shitfaced in Brighton the night before lunch with my parents, but I had. So here I was on the train dressed in a scouting uniform. I had tried burying my face in _The Times_ in the hope that I wouldn't be recognised but apparently it wasn't working.

"Excuse me," asked a middle-aged woman, "are you Edward Cullen?"

Bella raised her head from the table in front of us and looked up, horrified that I had been recognised but too groggy to hide her face in the hope that she wouldn't be noticed, too.

"Oh my God! You're Isabella Swan!" the woman exclaimed.

Bella looked stunned and unsure how to respond.

"Why are you wearing scout uniforms?"

With that and a slight groan, Bella's head rapidly returned to its previous position.

I tried to smooth things over. "Yes, we're Edward and Bella. Nice to meet you." I shook her hand. "Why shouldn't we be wearing scout uniforms? I think we pull the look off rather well, don't you?" I flashed her my trademark smile and hoped that she'd leave us alone soon.

Now it was the middle-aged woman's turn to be flabbergasted. "Y-yes."

"Would you like an autograph?" I asked.

"Could Ms. Swan sign my copy of _A Simple Ring_?" she asked sheepishly. "I'm reading it at the moment and it's really good. I saw her on _Strictly_ and just had to read one of her books."

Bella resurrected herself and plastered a professional yet fake smile on her face. "Of course. It is always nice to meet fans. How far have you got so far?"

The fan took that as an invitation to sit down on the seats opposite us and start an in-depth conversation about the novel. Normally I would've been interested but it went straight over my hung-over head. It even seemed to be too much for Bella who was just making the occasional approving noise of something non-committal when the fan paused for breath.

I was very relieved when the train pulled into Victoria Station and we could disembark and get away from the fan. Unfortunately that posed a whole new problem. No one was able to give us a lift from the station because they were too worried about still being over the limit to drive. So we had to use the tube.

Normally I didn't mind, although generally I preferred to drive. However, normally I was dressed like a sane person. We had already been recognised once, and we were bound to get noticed again. Most people had camera phones these days and those pictures could well make it onto the internet. But we had no choice but to get it over and done with.

Bella's stop was first and I felt bad that she had to face people alone dressed as she was.

"If there are paparazzi, hold your head up high and pretend that it is a fashion statement. The worst that could happen is that we end up on the worst dressed lists," I advised her.

Sure enough, when I got off at my station I was surrounded by paps. They were all yelling things at me, but I ignored them, jumped into a taxi and sped off home to get changed into something more appropriate for lunch with my parents.

I dreaded to think about what the paps would make of our piss-up last night or our outfits this morning. I enjoyed the dancing but disliked the celebrity. Strangely it was worse this year than ever before, even when I had far more famous partners. I wasn't sure whether it was Bella or the nights out that had caused it. Whatever it was, I hoped that they'd leave us alone soon.

Three quarters of an hour and a very rushed shower and change later, I knocked on Alice and Jasper's front door.

Jasper answered and immediately handed me a glass of his horrible but effective hangover cure. "Thought you may be a bit worse for wear," he commented. " You and Bella were bladdered last night."

"Thanks," I grunted and tried to drink the concoction.

"Where is Bella?"

"Probably getting ready. She should be here soon," I responded and started walking towards the kitchen.

Jasper put his hand on my shoulder and gently but firmly stopped me. "If I were you, I wouldn't go in there. Alice and your mum are arguing about how to make gravy. Certainly finish your drink before you venture in there."

I could hear raised voices arguing about whether gravy should be thick or runny, so I decided to take Jasper's advice. Sadly, there was no way to sneak into the rest of the flat without walking past the kitchen.

"Edward! Please tell Mum that gravy from granules is perfectly acceptable," yelled Alice who was apparently aware of my presence even when I was cowering in the entrance hall.

"If you'd just allow me, darling, I'd be happy to make gravy from scratch and it would be far superior to that granulated stuff you have," Mum interjected before I could respond.

I gingerly stepped into the kitchen and saw Mum and Alice looking very angry at one another. Alice was holding very tightly onto a packet of gravy granules and Mum was looking at them murderously.

"I agreed to make the whole meal and I will. Without your help," responded Alice.

I didn't quite see the need for this argument. Alice was a grown, independent woman; we knew she could do fine by herself. Why she felt the need to assert her independence I will never know.

"You could do it with me and learn as you go," Mum reasoned.

"I don't see the need. This will make perfectly good gravy."

"There is perfectly good gravy and then there is delicious gravy. I'm sure Edward would prefer real gravy, wouldn't you?" asked Mum.

Both women turned to look at me with insistent glares. Was there any way to get out of this without one or both of them hating me? I took a deep breath and responded like the man I am. "I would be very happy with either kind of gravy."

"Cut the crap and make a decision. Which do you want: homemade or granules?" Alice growled. I was getting scared now; I'd never seen Alice or Mum like this. It was like they were fighting to decide who was the alpha female. Thankfully a knock on the door saved me.

"That'll be Bella, I'll go get it," I said and high-tailed it out of the room.

I opened the door and saw that, most unfortunately, Bella was no longer wearing a scout uniform. She was also freshly showered and looking a lot less hung-over.

"Did the paps get you?" she asked, walking in.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yep. Guess who'll be on the pages of worst dressed this week?" Bella quipped.

She started walking towards the kitchen and I jumped in front of her. "Don't go in there. It's not safe."

"Excuse me?" Bella looked highly confused.

"Mum and Alice are arguing over gravy," I explained.

"Let me guess, the merits of granulated versus that of homemade," Bella deduced. "I'll sort this out."

Bella walked straight into the lion's den without any armour. God, she was courageous.

"Wow! This smells great. Alice, you've outdone yourself. I cannot wait for lunch," Bella exclaimed.

"Bella, you like to cook. Could you help us solve a problem?" Alice asked. Bella nodded politely. "We're having a disagreement over gravy. I make very nice gravy from granules but Mum insists that gravy is only good when made fresh. What do you think?"

Bella paused and appeared to ponder the dilemma. "I like to combine the two. I find that without some granules gravy can be missing some oomph. But gravy made just with granules can be a bit dull. I'm sure you can manage but would you like some help? For company more than anything else, it can be a bit lonely in the kitchen with everyone else chatting elsewhere."

"Thanks, I would love some help," Alice agreed.

Alice had a big smile on her face and Mum didn't look pissed off. How was it possible for Bella to find the middle ground? I think I just fell in love with her a bit more.

Bella and Alice worked on the rest of the dinner while I nursed my hangover and occasionally joined in the football conversation that Dad and Jasper were having.

Mum sat silently, looking a bit helpless until Bella asked her to set the table. Suddenly she looked happy, like she was no longer excluded and her life had purpose. Sometimes I don't understand women, I was grateful not to be asked to help.

Soon enough dinner was ready and Jasper was carving the chicken. It looked delicious. Following the grace that mother insisted on saying we dug in and I commented, "Great gravy, Alice, best I've had in ages," and winked at Bella who stifled a giggle.

It was a great meal—the best family meal that I'd had in ages. Normally Alice wasn't known for her cooking but she'd actually done really well this time, and Bella had fit right in. Usually I have to put up with Mum and Dad, and Alice and Jasper making couple jokes that only they understood, but this time I didn't feel left out because Bella and I were at it, too. Finally, the family felt complete. It was an awesome feeling.

Two hours later, Bella and I waddled out, well and truly sated.

"So, shall we start practising now?" Bella asked.

I looked at her, mildly horrified at the prospect until she giggled. "I don't think so, I can barely walk. We can however talk about it. Want to come to my place?" I offered.

"Only if I can get a cuppa," Bella bargained.

"Done."

"So, how are we going to make our research into a story?" Bella enquired as I put the kettle on.

"First of all, we need to decide what story we're telling. Are we sticking to your cynical view or everyone else's opinions?" I asked archly.

"Alright, I hold my hands up to being cynical. Perhaps I just need someone to teach me that romance isn't dead."

"Perhaps you do."

"How about we act out women spurning the big romantic gestures and appreciating the little ones instead? Like holding hands, being made a cuppa, that kind of thing," Bella suggested. I handed her a cup of tea, which she took very gratefully but she seemed to take it at face value. "Thanks. I needed this," she said appreciatively.

"I think we can do that. Might take a bit of creative choreography but I enjoy a challenge. I wonder what the judges will make of it."

We spent the rest of the day lounging around my flat, getting on with the work we had to do. I choreographed and Bella typed furiously on my laptop. The way she was typing, I was concerned for the poor keyboard; it certainly wasn't designed to take that kind of punishment. But as long as she was happy, so was I.

At seven, Bella's stomach grumbled loudly and for the first time in hours she looked up from her computer.

"Is that the time? I was so 'in the writing zone' that I forgot entirely about the time. I'm sorry, it was very rude of me," Bella apologised.

"No problem. I enjoyed having your company even if you were only here physically. It is nice not to be alone." It really was. Usually I didn't spend much time here because it made me feel lonely, but Bella changed that. When she was around, I felt complete. I wished I could ask her to stay with me, but my flat only had one bedroom. And as much as I would love to have her share my bed, that was overstepping a professional boundary. So I'd just have to keep her here for as long as possible. "I can't be bothered to cook. Want to order a takeaway?"

"That sounds perfect."

We argued over the benefits of the different cuisines we could partake of before settling on Indian. Soon we were sat watching _Fight Club,_ eating curry and drinking beer. This was how I wanted to spend every night, well perhaps not every night because we'd get fat, but I wanted to spend my evenings relaxing with Bella.

When Bella slyly reached over and nicked the last piece of chicken Rogan Josh from my plate, I couldn't let her get away with it. I calmly set our trays and glasses down on the floor. Bella looked very bewildered.

"Did you expect to get away with that Scot free?" I asked and then I started to tickle her mercilessly.

Bella squealed and tried to curl up in defence but I wouldn't let her. I was lying on top of her, pinning her to the sofa and she feebly tried to tickle me back. But, unlike Bella, I am not very ticklish.

Finally, she submitted and I paused. "I'm sorry! I'll never steal your Rogan Josh again!" she cried.

"Not good enough." I restarted my onslaught.

"Okay! I promise never to steal food from your plate again."

I looked into Bella's eyes to see how truthful she was being and realised just how close our bodies were. I was lying on top of her, my legs were in-between hers and our faces were mere inches apart. I could've so easily kissed her and perhaps even fucked her, and Lord knows that I wanted to, but I pulled away and sat up. I hoped that she wasn't aware of the evidence of just how much I had enjoyed it, which would have been very awkward.

We finished off _Fight Club_ and the curries with minimal awkwardness, and Bella went home, stoutly refusing my offer of a lift and begrudgingly allowing me to walk her to the tube station.

BPOV

Edward was acting oddly. It was confusing me. He kept insisting on opening doors for me and making me cups of tea. One day he even brought me flowers, telling me that I deserved them because I was doing really well this week. When he did these things he looked into my eyes very earnestly. It was kind of scaring me. It was like he was trying to romance me, except that it was always accompanied by him saying, "I really enjoy our working relationship, Bella. you're by far the most favourite partner I've ever had." Plus, he was way out of my league. Colour me confused.

Thankfully, Leah had run into me at dress rehearsals and asked me to have lunch with her. She was apparently in dire need of girl time. Last time I'd seen her she had rammed her tongue down my throat, but I'd decided to blame that on alcohol and had forgiven her. I was almost certain that this wasn't a date.

The BBC canteen was quiet when we arrived and we found a nice table in the corner.

"I'm so excited about this week and I just had to tell someone," she gushed as soon as we sat down. "My cousin Emily is coming to see the show. She is like a sister to me and is my best friend. I cannot wait to see what she makes of Sam. It is so important to me that she likes him; she is like my boyfriend barometer. If she doesn't like them I ditch them. I trust her judgement implicitly; she has helped me see off a few toads over the years."

Leah seemed happy to carry on her monologue without any input from me besides the occasional nod or grunt, so I let her get on with it while I ate my sushi.

"I have a really good feeling about Sam. I think he may be The One. You heard what he said last week; he wants to have babies with me! Not for a while mind you, but he is really serious about me. I need Emily to sign off on him and then I can allow myself to fall head over heels for him. Although, I think I'm already there. He is wonderful, isn't he?" She paused, misty eyed and I took it as a sign that I should agree with her.

"He is a really nice guy, and he clearly loves you," I agreed.

"Loves? You think he loves me?" she asked, shocked.

"Of course, the way he looks at you. Well, let's just say I wish someone would look at me that way."

"Edward looks at you lovingly," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Edward is quite insistent that our relationship is purely professional. There is nothing going on there." Leah gave me a sceptical look. "What? Nothing is going on, I swear."

"If you want to continue telling yourself that, be my guest. But you and Edward will happen," Leah predicted.

"Be careful, you're beginning to sound like Alice. Anyway, we're meant to be talking about you. Please carry-on mooning over Sam."

And she did—for another half a bloody hour. Thankfully then I was saved by the timetable. It was Edward and my turn on the studio's dance floor.

I had no clue how this dance would go down with the judges and the public. They'd either get it immediately or they would have no fucking clue what we were on about. We were doing the traditional foxtrot steps but it was quite a long way from the usual ballroom foxtrot. We could only hope that it was enough.

The rehearsal went well. As usual we'd put in far more hours than everyone else, so our dance was slick and nigh on perfect. Still, I had a bad feeling nagging in the back of my mind.

"Cheer up. It's a great dance and we've got it down," Edward encouraged.

"Something is wrong. My Spidey senses are tingling," I explained.

"Well, they needn't be tingling about this. Sure, it's original and unusual, but last week we went a bit off the wall and they loved it. I'm sure they'll love this, too."

"I hope so."

The outfit they had me in wasn't helping either. The moment the costume department learned we were dancing to "Bad Romance" they went slightly crazy. They actually had turned me into a brunette Lady Gaga. I had to beg them not to give me ridiculous glasses. As it was, I was in a sequined leotard that had ridiculous shoulder pads and necessitated a bikini wax.

Edward, the lucky bastard, was allowed to wear traditional ballroom gear, top hat and tails, because it fitted in with him trying to romance me, but I had to look like a modern woman. Why they thought modern women looked like Lady Gaga I have no idea. All I knew was that I now had to go and let a beautician go where a beautician had never been before and then something other than my Spidey senses would probably be tingling. All in the name of _Strictly_.

"Please remove your trousers and knickers and hop up onto the table," Becky, the beautician told me.

Terrified that this could in some way turn into another 'I kissed a girl' moment I did it with trepidation.

"I get celebrities in here all the time," Becky prattled, "but I was so excited when I learned it was you. I love _A Simple Ring_, my sister bought it for me a few Christmases ago and I couldn't put it down. I would've brought it for you to sign had I known that I'd be giving you a wax today." She positioned my legs and started to spread hot wax onto my bush using what looked like a giant lolly stick. She then spread a piece of cloth over it and pulled it off sharply.

"Holy shit!" I cried.

Becky had no mercy, continuing this process whilst nattering on.

"I've got to ask you, are the rumours true? Did you snog Leah Clearwater, Rosalie Hale and Alice Whitlock?"

I just groaned.

"If you want I could vagazzle a heart on for you. I'm sure they'd appreciate it," Becky encouraged.

"I'm sorry, what?" Was she on something? What on earth was she talking about?

"I stick some crystals onto your mons for you. It would require taking everything off but it is so cute that it's worth it. Want to see mine?" she offered, a little too eagerly for my liking.

"That is a very sweet offer, but I'm okay. And there is no one to see my lady bits at the moment so there is no need to vagazzle it. If that ever changes, I'll come to you."

"Not even Edward Cullen? I could've sworn he was seeing an awful lot of your lady bits. So, _Heat_ didn't tell the truth then? You didn't snog Edward outside that club last Saturday?" she enquired earnestly.

"Excuse me, what are you talking about?"

"_Heat_ had a picture of two people who looked a lot like you and Edward, he had copper hair and she was a brunette. But come to think of it they were both wearing scouting uniforms not dancing outfits. Although weren't you two both seen wearing scouts uniforms the next day?" She took my stunned silence as acquiescence. "BTW, where did you get the outfit from? They are totally cute and I want one. A bit too cold for autumn, but with some thick tights and boots I think I could pull it off…"

She continued prattling on and occasionally tweezing individual hairs but I was lost in my own world. Had I snogged Edward? I'd assumed that if I had kissed him I'd have remembered it, but we were both so wankered that we had no memories of anything after the tequila shots. Unless Edward could remember, was that what the flowers and the thoughtful gestures were about? Did he regret the kiss and was trying to apologise and mend our professional relationship? Should I talk to him about it? I just hoped that nothing beyond kissing had happened. At least I'd woken up fully dressed and alone.

As I walked back to the studio, limping slightly, I tried to think if anyone might be able to tell me what happened on Saturday night. Was there anyone sober enough to remember it?

I could think of only one person and I did not want to talk to her. But it seemed that my options were limited so I picked up my phone and called her anyway.

"Hi Mum, are you free for a chat?" I greeted.

"For you, always. What can I do you for?"

"Can you remember Saturday night with any degree of accuracy?" I asked.

"I wondered when you'd call. Yes, you did kiss Edward, or more accurately he kissed you. Against the wall outside _Scouting_, in front of the paparazzi," Renee clarified. "Thankfully for you, I noticed and separated you, which was not easy. I figured you would like to be able to remember the first time you two fuck."

"Shit. Do you think Edward knows this?"

"Well, he hasn't asked me about it but it has been spread across the gossip pages. How come you didn't know about it?" she asked.

"After last week, I've been avoiding them like the plague. I even asked Angela not to tell me about them," I explained.

"Sticking your head in the ground is not a wise policy. Steering clear of them and being aware of what they're saying is far wiser," she advised.

"Yes, Mum," I grumbled.

"I've got to go restock the bar. Good luck tomorrow, we'll all be watching."

"Thanks."

I ended the call. At least I now knew what had happened. But I still had to decide whether to talk to Edward about it. Mum had told me to deal with things head on, but I think that a bit of repression can be healthy; it has worked in Britain for centuries. So I decided not to tell Edward but to carry on as usual.

A/N:

**Want to know about Edward and Bella's first kiss? I'll be putting up an outtake from Renee's POV soon (and three more outtakes will follow shortly). So you may want to put me onto author alert or check my profile soon.**

Glossary

Bladdered: Very drunk.

Cuppa: Cup of tea.

Football: The original (and best) kind - soccer.

Heat: A British gossip magazine.

Knickers: Ladies underpants.

Nicked: Stole

Scot free: No consequences

Snog: Kiss.

Takeaway: Takeout.

Wankered: Drunk

**Please review**.


	11. Hurricane Emily

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Sorry it has been a while.

Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas Mcc101180 and rodeomom_95.

**Contains some British slang terms. As usual there is a glossary at the bottom to help. **

EPOV

I've got a confession to make. I try to be cool and aloof but really I love _Strictly_. Sure, sometimes my partners and the songs drive me to distraction but generally I love it—the dancing, the cheering crowds, the camaraderie of the dancers, even the outfits. It is just bloody good fun. I don't take _Strictly_ very seriously, but I fucking love it.

Last week, I was freaking out, so I couldn't fully appreciate it, but this week, I'm feeling reasonably confident and so I can sit back and take it all in.

The show was about to start and the members of the audience were all dressed to the nines and were chattering excitedly in their seats. The dancers were lined up with their partners and was happily nattering to one another while the crew fussed around us making sure that we look perfect. There was a buzz in the air. Even Bella was relaxed and was talking to Seth.

Then the producer called for silence, as there were ten seconds till showtime. I took Bella by the hand and squeezed it. She looked into my eyes and smiled broadly. Bella was finally able to relax during _Strictly_ and was now able to fully enjoy it. The first week, Bella was petrified, and then last week, I was the terrified one and she had to be sensible. Now we were both relaxed, and we could truly get into the _Strictly _spirit.

"Author Isabella Swan and her partner, Edward Cullen," the voice-over announced. We walk out hand in hand to the top of the stairs and smile and wave. I glance over at Bella and can see that she is getting used to this kind of attention now and seems comfortable with this—only a slight blush appears on her face.

We walk down the stairs and join the line, clapping and dancing along to the theme tune.

I have a further confession to make; I even find Bruce Forsyth funny in the context of _Strictly_. Granted, he is cringe-makingly awful, but he is a _Strictly_ institution; it just wouldn't be the same without him.

So I could forgive him when he dropped in constant references to Scouting and winked at all the dancers.

Soon we were all squashed into the green room watching Seth and Victoria dance an okay Quickstep, cheering them along and slapping them on the back when they come in for their scores. They got six, six, seven, six, and we celebrated with them. I may not be Victoria's biggest fan but she had helped Seth improve; he was shockingly bad the first week but is passable this week. However, he was a long way from being the best. He would need a big fanbase to continue for much longer.

James and Alice were up next, and it seemed that James has reverted slightly to his previous form because he was more hands-on than he should have been. He didn't actually overstep the mark of propriety, but he frequently toed it during their salsa. He got rather too close to her, and I could see that Jasper was tense and was very far from being happy. We supported them as we are supposed to and congratulated them on their seven, eight, eight, seven, but Jasper was doing all this while giving James the evil eye. He was holding onto Alice as protectively as he could without making it obvious to onlookers.

Laurent and Kate did a quite amusing Charleston and were rewarded with six, seven, eight, and seven —reasonable scores for this point in the competition. I like to watch the Charleston, but it was one of my weaker dances because, frankly, I'm not funny enough. Emmett does an amazing Charleston, but unfortunately won't get the opportunity this year unless they do a professional Charleston.

Tanya started to close her eyes and centre herself, so I knew that she was up next. She always does that before a performance and when we danced together she tried, and failed, to get me to do it too. Peter was actually doing it as well. However, their strategy did not improve their tango. Peter forgot a step at one point and his timing was a bit off. This did not go unnoticed by the judges. Five, six, six, and six was all they get. We commiserated with them and lied, telling them "you was robbed."

Bella and I were on after them, and we stood in front of the cameras for the introduction of our rehearsal video. Naturally, they'd chosen clips of the most emotional moments: of us laughing, hugging, and Bella getting concerned about the dance. There was not much of the actual, somewhat tedious practice. Thankfully, none of our kitchen dances were shown; perhaps the producers now think that is old news.

After the clips finished, we were formally announced. I placed a kiss on the top of Bella's head, whispered good luck and led her onto the dance floor. When the music started we began at the top of the stairs and I offered my hand to Bella. She refused and walked down the stairs alone. I got down the other stairs faster than her and met her at the bottom, grabbing her and forcing her to foxtrot. That section didn't last long and she huffed off and danced by herself while looking at me flirtatiously. I then swooped in and swept her off her feet before she took over and pushed me around the dance floor. I again tried to romance her before being ignored. My tactics then changed to little touches, smiles and hugs. She responded favourably and we ended with her dipping me.

"Well, that was the strangest Foxtrot I've ever seen," commented Bruce. "Craig, would you like to start?"

"Unusual Foxtrot, but you ticked all the traditional boxes. Bella, your timing was a little bit off when you danced alone, so watch out for that next week. And your footwork could be improved slightly, but overall I was impressed. It was brave," Craig appraised.

Alesha was more enthusiastic. "I loved it! It was so modern, so real. Usually _Strictly_ is all about the fairytale, make believe romance, but you brought it down to earth. It was refreshing, although I do like a bit of old fashioned romance too. Bella, watch out for your left foot; it needs to be a bit more pointed."

As ever, Bruno was exuberant. "Where was the sex? We've got so used to you two practically mauling each other on the dance floor. I want the mauling again! We've got to get our kicks somehow. However, it was very naturally romantic, so well done. Just bring back the sex next week."

"We'll do our best," I replied and everyone laughed.

Lastly, Len evaluated us. "I look forward to you two each week, and you did not disappoint. You keep pushing the envelope, and I can't wait to see what you come up with next week. You are one of the best couples here, and I want you to keep up the hard work. Craig was right about the footwork and the timing, so work on that this week."

We returned to the green room and were greeted with cheers. The judges awarded us eight, eight, nine, and nine.

I gave Bella a huge hug and whispered in her ear, "See, we did it. Told you that you could trust me."

"Don't count your chickens; people haven't voted yet," Bella chided.

"I think we'll be here for the weeks to come," I predicted.

"Stop tempting fate! Now that you've said that, we're bound to get kicked off."

Rosalie and Jake were the next to dance and did a pretty good American Smooth. I never really thought that a racing driver would be a good dancer, but I was proven wrong. I think that they may possibly be our biggest competition, and from the way Jake looked at Bella, he may be my competition in more ways than one.

The judges agreed with me about Jake and Rosalie, awarding them eight, eight, nine, and eight – only one point behind us. We'd definitely have to keep an eye on them.

Jessica and Jasper danced a Quickstep fairly well. She might be a bitch but unfortunately she could dance. Jasper had told me that she had been trying desperately to persuade him to allow her to sing and dance like I had, but he'd refused, saying they'd look like they were just copying us. Still, it's nice to know that what we do is well-liked. The judges gave them seven, eight, eight, and seven and Jessica did her best to look pleased, but you could see that she was disappointed that they didn't score higher.

The last couple to dance were Sam and Leah. I really liked these two, and Leah in particular got on very well with Bella; they were both great people and it was reassuring to know that working relationships could also be loving ones too. Perhaps I should take a leaf out of Sam's book and ask Bella out.

Sam and Leah danced a very sexy rumba. The passion between those two was clearly intense and it translated very well into their dancing. Bruno was bound to be pleased with it.

Naturally, the judges loved it and awarded them with eight, nine, eight, and nine—exactly matching ours.

"Should we start the trash talking now or leave it till next week?" Bella asked Leah. "Congratulations, by the way. Very sexy rumba. Something tells me that you didn't just practice in the studio…"

"No comment," Leah responded, blushing, and they started to natter.

While the public voted, Emmett and Charlotte demonstrated a Jive and JLS mimed their latest single.

Time flew by and soon we were all stood on the stage in our couples, underneath spotlights waiting to find out whether we were through to next week. Thankfully, Bella and I were one of the first couples to be declared through, and we avoided the majority of the stress. Tanya and Peter, and Victoria and Seth were the two couples who were in the dance-off.

This time Peter managed to remember all of his steps and so his dance went significantly better. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Seth. The stress got to him and his timing was rubbish and he screwed up several moves.

The judges were divided about whom to save. Craig and Bruno wanted to save Seth because he was best overall, but Alesha and Len voted to save Peter because he was better in the dance-off. As head judge, Len got the deciding vote and so Peter and Tanya were saved.

Seth and Victoria had their last dance and then we all joined them to wish them farewell. I would miss Seth because he was such a nice bloke, but Victoria had never been friendly to me, so I was not disappointed to be seeing her less frequently.

After the past two Saturday nights of drunken debauchery that was so well documented in the press, we had all decided that a quieter night was called for, although we still wanted to celebrate. Jake had stepped in and invited us all to his home.

The term 'bachelor pad' did not adequately describe Jake's home. It was a two-storey penthouse apartment that was decorated almost entirely in a palate of gray-blues and beige, and there was even a bar. It was quite clear that a woman had not helped decorate.

As usual, I'd given Bella a lift and this time we'd stopped at an off-license to pick up some beer and wine. So, by the time we arrived, the place was heaving. The music was on low and people were sitting and chatting instead of drinking and dancing. Considering the last two celebrations, I was astonished to see the group being so relaxed. To be frank, I preferred it.

Bella and I got separated at some point, and I found her chatting to Jake. No, not just chatting, she was flirting. She was giggling at something he'd said and he was leaning in very close to her, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. I couldn't stand to watch it so, I did what any jealous man would do—I split it up.

"Great dance, Jake," I said, surprising him. "Bella and I were very impressed." Hear that? _Bella and I_. I have prior claim. Back the fuck off. To make my point further ,I put my arm around Bella.

Jake narrowed his eyes and glared at me but continued as if nothing had happened. "As I was telling Bella, it's bloody lucky that we managed to pull it off," he commented.

"Oh?"

"I think Rose has got a virus; she was knackered all week so we didn't manage to practice as much as we'd have liked. And when we were practicing she would bite my head off whenever I made a mistake. If this carries on next week I'm forcing her to get some antibiotics," explained Jake.

"Probably just PMS. I wouldn't worry about it," I said.

"Edward!" Bella admonished, hitting me on the arm.

"Ow! What did I do?"

"Surely you know better than to accuse a woman of having PMS. If she is, she'll bite your bloody head off at the suggestion that she isn't behaving normally, and if she isn't, you'll also have your head bitten off for saying that is how she is behaving. There is no win in this situation," Bella enlightened me.

"Fine. I hope she gets better soon," I conceded.

Thankfully, Jake had stopped flirting with Bella as soon as I had turned up, he soon remembered that he was the host and so had some hosting duties to attend to. So I, the alpha male, had successfully staked my claim on Bella, and he respected that and had backed off. Success!

Shortly afterwards, Leah dragged Bella onto the makeshift dance floor that was slowly filling up, but only after promising that all they'd be doing is dancing. I looked around the room to see Sam chatting rather intimately with someone whom, judging by the similarity of her appearance to Leah, could only be Emily. They were looking directly into each other's eyes and smiling broadly. While nothing untoward was happening, I noticed that they seemed to be flirting slightly. Leah was entirely oblivious and dancing happily with Bella.

It was one of those moments where you want to step in but know you can't. I wish I had stepped in and had a chat with Sam about what was going on, but it wasn't my place. So instead, I got myself a beer and tried to forget what I had witnessed.

All in all, it was a great evening. Jake dared dance with Bella once, but I danced with her much more, so I came out on top. It was nice to get a chance to chat to everyone in a relaxed fashion. I hadn't taken much time previously to get to know the celebrities, but I did the rounds that night and was pleasantly surprised. Besides Jessica being overly flirtatious, everyone was very nice.

Bella had taken to the other dances like a duck to water, but the same could not be said for this week's Jive. She just couldn't get the rhythm perfect and it was driving her—and therefore me—crazy.

"This is not fucking rocket science. Why can I not do it?" she screamed, exasperated.

"It'll come to you, just be patient," I recommended.

"That is easy for you to say 'Mr I-learned-to-dance-age-five.' Some of us haven't had twenty-five years of practise!"

"I think we should try something different for a bit."

"No, it is Wednesday and we are nowhere near perfect. We will carry on until I have fucking nailed it," she insisted.

"Who is in charge here?" I bellowed before pausing for dramatic effect. "Me. I am the teacher. I decide how the lesson will go. I've decided that we will move on from this. We will either practise our first ever lift some more or take a break. Which will it be?"

"What if I refuse to do either?" Bella asked, petulantly.

"I will put you in detention." Or I could spank you, an unbidden part of me thought.

Bella, ever the workaholic, decided to practise lifts.

Typically, we'd not taken the easy route for our first lift. Instead, we were doing a complex gymnastic routine that combined several lifts at once. Bella had to use me as a climbing frame in order to change her position. I was fairly certain that it was more complex than had ever been attempted so early in the competition. This was certainly no holding her under her armpits and twirling her around. That was for mere amateurs.

So far I'd dropped Bella three times, and she had the bruises to prove it. Mostly, she wasn't positioning herself correctly, although once she had slid from my grasp. I felt very guilty for being the cause of the big black bruise on her thigh. Thankfully, we were improving; I hadn't dropped Bella since the previous morning!

We were in the middle of the most complex part of the lift, and I was holding Bella only by her thigh and she was grasping onto my shoulder whilst we were spinning around when the studio door burst violently open, slamming against the wall.

I stopped suddenly, facing the door, and my grip lessened on Bella's thigh, just as her hold on my shoulder relaxed. Bella went crashing to the floor, straight onto her bottom.

"Fuck! Can you bruise a bruise?" she asked, obviously in pain.

I kneeled down next to her to check that she, was okay, choosing to ignore my instinctive reaction to ask if I can kiss, or rub, it better for her. We both completely forgot about what caused the drop in the first place until we heard a wail.

We turned our heads towards the door and saw a bedraggled Leah.

She looked like a drowned rat. It was pissing it down outside and she had gone out without any protection from the weather. Consequently, her usually styled hair was hanging limply around her face, her clothes clung to her body and she had mascara all down her cheeks. She was shivering and sobbing.

Bella jumped up, put her arm around Leah and guided her to a seat in the corner. "Edward, grab my towel," she instructed.

I brought it to her and she wrapped it around Leah and started rubbing it up and down her arms in a doomed attempt to try and dry her off. She didn't ask any questions, she just waited.

Eventually, Leah started to explain herself. "He… he…" she hiccupped "…has left me"—she paused and took a shuddering breath— "for Emily, my cousin." And with that she started wracking sobs.

"Edward, tea," Bella commanded and I ran off to get her a cup of sweet tea. I tried to find a bar of chocolate as well, but unfortunately we practised in a health club, and I didn't think she'd want a Muesli bar.

By the time I returned, Bella had coaxed the full story out of Leah. I handed Leah the tea.

"Thanks," she blubbered, before continuing. "The twat said it was 'love at first sight.' Like I'd believe that? He was just bored of me but didn't want to say it." She broke into a fresh bawl.

"Some people really do believe in it; he may think he has found it," Bella reasoned.

"Just because they believe in it, doesn't make it real," Leah retaliated.

"I know. I know," Bella reassured, hugging Leah.

I took a deep breath. "I believe in it. I think I've experienced it," I admitted quietly. Suddenly the sobs abated and both women looked at me shocked.

"Love. True love?" Bella asked.

"Yes."

"Not lust at first sight?" Bella further interrogated.

"No."

"So, you're in love now?"

"Yes."

"With whom?"

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not say."

"See, he's lying to make me feel better," Leah said, resuming her tears. "And it's not fucking working."

"I know, I know," Bella comforted, "Do you want some chocolate?"

"Yes, and some vodka. And some ice cream. Fuck the diet."

"If there was ever time to fuck the diet, I think it's now. Edward, would you mind popping to the co-op?" asked Bella.

Once again I was the lackey, but better the lackey than the hanky.

By the time I had returned with the goods, Leah was a bit more sane. She had put Bella's dry non-workout clothes on, had washed the mascara off her face and was almost able to talk properly, only hiccupping and sobbing occasionally.

"Have you told the producers yet?" I enquired.

"Told them what?" Leah asked as she opened the ice cream and ate a big scoop.

"That you're quitting."

"Quitting?"

"Yes, you're not intending to carry on dancing with Sam, are you?" I prodded.

"I haven't thought about it," Leah pondered aloud, "But it would be a real shame to quit; our dance is really good this week. And it is Wednesday, not much more time to practice before Saturday, just dress rehearsals. Also, it would give me a chance to win him back."

"I'm not sure that is such a wise idea," Bella suggested. "I think it would place unnecessary emotional pressure on you."

"I'm not a quitter," Leah suggested indignantly.

"I never suggested you were, but I don't think anyone would think any less of you because of it," Bella appeased.

"No. I'm not quitting. I want Sam to be forced to look me in the eye and see what he has done to me. Revenge." This idea seemed to appeal to Leah and she brightened up immensely.

Picking up the ice cream, vodka and chocolate she stood up and straightened out her clothes.

"Thanks for the clothes, Bella, and the food and drink, Edward. I appreciate both of your support. I've got revenge to prepare for." And she left as dramatically as she had entered.

"Fuck me," commented Bella as the doors shut behind Leah. Gladly, I thought before quickly ignoring it and reminding myself that I am a professional.

I looked over at Bella. "From the top?" I asked.

And this time Bella got the rhythm just right.

A/N: I've got a few outtakes coming up very shortly. So if you want to find out what really happened during Leah and Sam's break up either put me on author alert or look on my profile in the next week or so.

Glossary:

Co-op: A British chain of supermarkets.

Off-license: A place that sells alcohol to consume off the premises.

Pissing it down: Raining heavily.

Please review


	12. Jive Time

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas Mcc101180 and Rodeomom_95.

**Contains some British slang terms. As usual there is a glossary at the bottom to help. **

Chapter 12

BPOV

I was worried about Leah. She acted like she had it all together but what she was doing wasn't sane. I watched their dress rehearsals, and you could see just how good an actress she was. When they were preparing to dance, she was an ice queen, but the moment they started dancing, she melted and danced her American Smooth like a pro. Only once did I see her step on his toe deliberately. Sam really should have been grateful that the stiletto only made contact with his big toe and not his family jewels.

Edward saw me watching them dance and came up to me.

"How is she doing?"

"Better than expected," I responded. "I'd like to have dinner with her tonight to check, but I'm going out for dinner with Seth so I can't."

"You're going out with Seth?" Edward clarified.

"Yeah, he's helping me escape from _Strictly_ for one night."

"You need to escape?" Edward asked, affronted.

"It's fun but can be a bit overwhelming. I just want a break for a few hours."

"By hanging out with someone you met through _Strictly_?"

"All talk about _Strictly_ is banned. Sometimes it seems that it's all I think about. I need a break and a laugh."

"Where is he taking you?" he demanded.

"Why are we playing twenty questions? Are you jealous?" I joked.

Edward looked slightly thrown for a moment before replying, "Of course not, I hope you have a lovely evening."

"I intend to."

An uncomfortable silence descended.

"Perhaps I should keep Leah company tonight," Edward suggested, breaking the awkwardness.

I wasn't too keen on this idea; I liked being the top female in Edward's life. Nonetheless, Leah could do with a friend. But then Seth and I were her friends too, which gave me an idea. "I think Leah should come with out with Seth and me: two friends for the price of one."

"It could be three friends for the price of one," Edward not-so-subtly hinted.

"Are you angling for an invite?" I asked. "Desperate to spend the evening with Leah, are we?"

"Well, she's single now…"

"And on the rebound; not a wise idea. Anyway, you're supposed to be in love with someone. Unless Leah is your non-existent true love…"

"My true love exists, but she is not Leah. Although you do know her rather well… " Edward revealed.

He didn't know any of my close friends, unless…

"You're in love with Angela!" I cried, "Give that up right now, she is engaged and head over heels for Ben."

"I'm not in love with Angela."

"Rosalie…?"

"Not even close."

"She is a woman, right?"

"Yes, despite the hopes of many of my fans, I'm not gay," he responded, exasperated. "Now if you'll stop guessing for a few minutes, we can get started. It's our turn in the studio."

I grumbled. We were dancing to "I Believe in a Thing Called Love," a song that had been driving me insane since the third time we'd heard it, four fucking days ago, and to top that off, I didn't like the jive. It wasn't _my_ dance, but finally I'd conquered the rhythm and was reasonably confident we'd do okay, perhaps not as well as usual, but passable. Two more days and hopefully I'd never have to hear that bloody song or dance a jive ever again.

After our reasonably successful practice in the TV studio, I went for my appointed costume fitting.

"Hello?" I called out as I walked into the empty costume department. Shelley Cope was usually rushing around, but today she was nowhere to be seen. "I'm Bella Swan, and I'm here for my fitting."

A beautiful young Indian woman came rushing out of a corner. She looked very stylish in a fitted floral miniskirt, tailored tee, sleek black bob and black geek glasses; the whole look was completed by a measuring tape hung around her neck.

"Sorry, Shelley is ill today so it's just me, and I only started work on Monday!" she babbled. "I'm Nessie, nice to meet you."

I shook her hand. "Bella. How do you do?"

"Good thanks. I'll just grab your outfit for this week." She ran off and dived into a rack of clothing. "Here we go!"

She came brandishing what looked like a glorified swimming suit. There was nothing to cover my legs at all. My cleavage would be on display for all to see, and the back was even lower cut than the front. The suit was covered in navy blue and silver fringing with diamante detailing around the waist.

During _Strictly_ I had become used to stripping off in front of the wardrobe staff and the female dancers, so I whipped off my clothing and put the costume on. Nessie zipped me up and I stood on the pedestal so she could measure me.

In front of the pedestal was a full-length mirror that revealed just how much the "dress" revealed. I felt like a stripper.

"Bit revealing, isn't it?" I asked.

Nessie looked up from pinning in the outfit around my waist.

"No, I think it looks good. You pull it off really well."

I liked chatting with people but I had always found it a bit difficult to know how to start, and it didn't help that I was practically naked. Instead of spending the entire fitting racking my brains trying to think of something original to say, I just went with the obvious. "Nessie is a really unusual name; were you born with it or is it a nickname?"

"Who would name their child Nessie? That would be akin to child abuse!" Nessie laughed. "It's a nickname; my parents named me Nazeeha. It was a bit of a mouthful for my big sister to say, and so she nicknamed me Nessie. My mother was appalled that I'd taken on the name of a mythical monster, but it stuck."

"Nazeeha is a beautiful name. Where does that come from?" I enquired.

"Pakistan. I was born there. Moved here when I was two."

Pakistan, eh? That reminded me of someone…

"What is your favourite drink?"

"Excuse me?" Nessie looked confused, and rightly so. But I no longer cared; I was too busy playing matchmaker.

"I will explain all if you let me quiz you a bit."

"Okay…" she said doubtfully, "Whisky."

Well, that is certainly a way better a choice than vodka and soda.

"Do you make roti?" I enquired.

"Occasionally…"

Excellent. Mrs. Black would like her.

"Do you want to be famous?"

"God no! I would hate to be famous; I like my privacy. Unless of course, my career makes me famous—being famous for doing something well wouldn't be so bad."

That could prove to be a slight impediment to their relationship, but at least she isn't fame hungry.

"Rich?"

"As long as I've got enough money to live comfortably, I'm a happy girl."

That did it; she is bloody perfect for Jake.

"Are you single?" She looked a bit scared, so I quickly clarified. "I'm asking for someone else. I think you're just what a male friend of mine has been looking for."

Nessie looked somewhat relieved. "Yes, I'm single."

"Can I set you up on a blind date? This guy is funny and fit. You'll like him, I promise. Even if it doesn't work out, you'll still have a great night, and I can guarantee he'll pay."

Nessie considered the offer for a moment. "Well, I've got nothing better to do tonight."

Ten minutes later, I was walking back to the studio to find Edward when I ran into Jake. "I've just met the girl of your dreams."

Jake looked unconvinced at first, but as I told him more about her, he became less cynical. I gave him her phone number, and he promised to call her and take her out that night.

I'd done everything I could and left it up to Jake and fate.

Seth's phone had been off all afternoon and so I hadn't been able to get through to him to tell him that our party was doubling for tonight, so when we turned up at the Thai restaurant, he was a bit surprised.

He looked a little bit put out at first but recovered his composure soon enough.

It was a lovely evening where _Strictly _was barely mentioned, a rarity these days. Unfortunately, Leah kept bringing up her break-up. Apparently Emily had called her to apologise.

"She also claims it was love at first sight. Do they think I'm fucking stupid? Lust at first sight is more like it," she ranted.

"It could be pheromones or something like that," Seth suggested, "our bodies recognising the perfect match for reproducing or some such crap."

"It's all a crock of shit," I chipped in.

"This one here"—Leah pointed to Edward—"believes in it. Claims to have experienced it but won't tell us with whom."

"I don't see why I should" Edward defended.

"Apparently, I know the person quite well, but it's not you"—I gestured towards Leah—"Rosalie or my publicist, Angela. And it's definitely a woman. Any better ideas?"

"I don't understand why you're so interested in my love life. Can we please just drop it?" Edward pleaded.

"Is it someone on _Strictly_?" Leah asked. Edward refused to give her any hints, so she pressed on. "Tanya? No, you'd have made a move on her by now. Or perhaps it's someone who works backstage? Is it Mrs. Cope?"

Seth was looking at Edward and me oddly. There seemed to be some silent communication going on between them; Edward was shaking his head slightly and seemed to be silently pleading with him. I wondered what Seth worked out but decided to ask him later when Edward wasn't present.

"Well done. You've worked it out. It's Mrs. Cope. I took one look at her voluminous fun bags and fell in love," Edward responded, deadpan.

"Spoil sport," Leah moaned and we all giggled.

"So… Nick Clegg. Anyone else surprised he's a twat.?" asked Seth, radically changing the subject. And so started an in-depth discussion about politics that necessitated another bottle of wine.

The next morning, I was in my dressing room taking advantage of a rare quiet moment by writing when a knock came at the door.

With a heavy heart ,I closed my laptop and called out, "Come in," and in walked a very cheerful Jake—he was literally grinning from ear to ear.

"I owe you one, Bella Swan! She is a reet perfect lass. I think I love her," he exclaimed, sitting down in the spare chair.

"Whoa! Hold on there, Jake. Tea?" I offered and Jake nodded. "I'm glad you like her, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Love, really?"

"I'm serious. I love her and I'm going to marry that woman," Jake insisted.

He stayed for his tea and chewed my ear off about how perfect Nessie was. It was almost enough to make me regret setting them up. After all, they were bound to have met eventually and then I'd have probably avoided hearing all the details.

What was it with all the men in my life believing in love at first sight? I thought women were meant to be the hopeless romantics.

Nessie was just as bad as Jake. When I went back to the costume department for my final fitting, I discovered that she was also love-struck.

The moment I stepped into the room, I was practically tackled by her. Two arms flew around my neck.

"I know that I don't know you well enough, but I'm so happy! He is The One. I just know. Sometimes when you know, you know, you know?"

I looked at the lovesick fool and flatly responded, "I know."

The rest of the fitting was spent with her listing all of Jake's best features. I was very grateful when the fitting ended and I was able to flee. When you're in love, it is quite easy to put up with people in love, but when you are single, it's plain depressing.

Although, I suppose that at least now I had Leah to get drunk with and complain about our man related woes.

At least Edward, who had rapidly become my best friend, was also single. We could be depressed together. But I have to admit that I find Edward rather more attractive than I should. Ever since I had met him, I had been trying to deny my feelings, but they were getting increasingly difficult to ignore, and the judges' repeated comments about our chemistry was not helping. So I just repressed those feelings, hoping that one day I wouldn't accidentally tell him and embarrass myself.

Edward was so bloody attractive I knew that he couldn't stay single for long. He was bound to unleash his one true love to the world, and I'd have to pretend to be happy for him while he paraded her, who would inevitably be tall, willowy and blonde, around. And I would probably be fantasising about the woman's demise. Although, Edward would never fall for a bitch, so I would probably end up liking her, too. Bitch.

I may have a cool new haircut and stylish new clothes, but I still thought of myself as "No Fella Bella," the same insecure person I'd been in secondary school. Still only good enough for closeted homosexuals.

Things in the green room were strained. Sam and Leah were sitting as far apart from each other as possible and studiously ignoring each other. The usual fun and supportive atmosphere was gone. We all faked happiness when the cameras were rolling and congratulated each couple when they finished dancing, but it was awkward. The only truly happy person was Jake, and he was annoyingly happy. Perhaps there is a certain amount of happiness and unhappiness available in the universe and Jake and Nessie's happiness counteracted Leah's deep depression.

No one wanted to be in the same room with Sam and Leah at the same time. It felt like there was a bomb ready to go off, slowly ticking away until it blew up in our faces.

It didn't help that Emily had turned up to watch. She had been given a front row seat, which may well have been the producers' attempt at pushing Leah's buttons in the name of good reality TV. I didn't think this was ethical, and I had had a word with the producers, but I may well not have bothered for all the good it did.

The rest of the dancers relaxed when they left the green room for their turn to dance. But the moment they appeared on camera together, everyone sat bolt upright and had their eyes glued to the TV screen.

While their rehearsal video was being introduced, they were standing close to each other but noticeably were not touching and their smiles looked exceptionally forced. The laughs they each gave when Bruce tried to make a joke about their "spat" were cold and emotionless.

Viewing the tapes of their rehearsals was painful for me to watch, and I had no clue how Leah bore it. They started with a clip of last week when they were head over heels in love and as they showed clips of their rehearsals, you could see Sam pulling away and not acting at all how he had before. It culminated in a clip of their break up, which had, sadly, been filmed. The whole thing had been shown in all its bleeped out glory on _It Takes Two_ on Thursday night. Sam had gone on and explained that they had broken up but would continue to dance together. He had not gotten off easily – Claudia, the presenter, and the other guests were scathing about his behaviour, Bruno was downright rude, and Twitter was abuzz with support for Leah.

"We're all glad that you've put that nastiness behind you and have decided to continue," said Bruce. "Good luck."

And then they walked out onto the dance floor, again without touching.

Somehow the dance went really rather well. They both managed to remain professional about it not allowing their feelings to affect the dance. But the moment they stopped, they immediately separated and their behaviour returned to how it had been earlier.

"Was that the dancing equivalent of make-up sex?" Bruno asked. "Because that was HOT!"

Leah looked at Sam with what could only be considered disgust, and Bruno, and the public, were effectively told that there had been no make-up.

The judges got their comments over and done with as quickly as possible and Sam and Leah returned to us for their scores and brought the frosty atmosphere with them. They were rewarded with seven, eight, eight, eight, so perhaps from a competitive perspective Leah had made the right decision to continue in the end.

Thankfully, Edward and I were up next and were able to escape for a few minutes.

Our rehearsal videos concentrated on the times Edward had dropped me, and they looked even more painful than they actually were. I cringed.

"Let's hope he doesn't drop her this time," said Bruce, helpfully.

"Would Isabella Swan and her dance partner, Edward Cullen, please take to the stage," the announcer said.

Edward led me to the bottom of the steps and we stood in our starting positions.

"I Believe in a Thing Called Love" began and I hoped to God that this would be the last time I ever heard this song. We had chosen it because we thought it was hilarious, but now we were being driven crazy by it. Edward ended up hating it even more than I did after he tried to get the lounge band to recreate the faux seventies glam rock sound. In the end he had given up.

So the song sounded even worse than usual. It was being sung by the poor man's Frank Sinatra, and it was depressingly awful. It made me want to put my fingers in my ears. Unfortunately, I had discovered that it was impossible to dance with your fingers in your ears and wearing earplugs made me miss my cues, so I had no choice but to listen to it.

The jive was really quite unlike any of the dances I'd done recently. All of those were very much partner dances whereby Edward and I were constantly touching, and we could be in our own little bubble, ignoring everyone else. In our previous dance, I had a slight solo dance but it wasn't for very long. The jive, however, required us to separate and do exactly the same footwork at the same time, while interacting with the audience.

Our dance was fast and fun and Edward even revealed his prowess at air guitar. It was very different from our previous dances and was exhausting.

When the second chorus started, I took a deep breath and said a quick prayer. Edward hoisted me up and spun me round with minimal holding and minimal effort. He hadn't dropped me since Wednesday, but it had really hurt and I had the purple bruise to prove it. It had taken make-up a good ten minutes and a liberal airbrushing and three pairs of tights to cover it up. Of course, it would also be hugely embarrassing if I fell as well, putting aside how it would affect our scores.

Thankfully. I was soon back on terra firma and the audience cheered as we continued to dance.

With a final move that I like to call the floor polisher, Edward spun me around on the floor before we reached our finishing positions.

The audience cheered and we walked over to Bruce for judging.

"Well, I now believe in a thing called love, but do the judges?" Bruce asked, "Len?"

"You two are certainly proof of love," Len commented and I blushed. "I thought it was brave—particularly that lift. You managed it pretty well. Occasionally, Isabella, your footwork was a bit off but a good week again."

"Alesha?" Bruce asked.

"Can I just say that I love your dress?" Alesha stated. Well, at least one person loved the "dress." "You two have great chemistry and this dance really demonstrated that. I certainly believe in a thing called love. Keep up the good work."

"What do you think, Craig?"

"I think you bit off a bit more than you could chew with the lift, you just about managed it, but I think you should have done something slightly easier. I'm not sure those falls that Isabella suffered were worth it. Also, you need to work on your footwork for next week. Make sure you point your feet correctly. But you're still setting a high standard, so keep up the good work."

"Lastly, but by no means least, Bruno," said Bruce.

"I NOW BELIEVE IN A THING CALLED LOVE!" cried Bruno, standing up and banging his hand on the desk. "I doubted it before, but you two convinced me. Edward, I loved the air guitar. Who doesn't enjoy watching a man strum his guitar? And yes, it could've been improved in all the ways that Len and Craig stated, but it was hugely entertaining, and as usual, the chemistry was electric. See you in Blackpool!"

Edward and I jogged off to the green room to get our scores.

"Look at these two, I think they're a bit pleased with themselves," Tess commented as we came over.

"I'm just really pleased I wasn't dropped again. I couldn't handle another bruise," I explained and then turned to the camera. "Please vote for us so I don't have to risk being dropped again!"

The dancers laughed.

"The judges scores are now in," said Tess.

"Craig Revel Horwood," the voiceover announced.

"Eight."

"Len Goodman."

"Eight."

"Alesha Dixon."

"Nine."

"Bruno Tonioli."

"Eight."

"Thirty-three, good score," congratulated Tess.

We high-fived each other and sat down in the frigid atmosphere of the green room.

Time dragged slowly and the only time it reached normal speed was during Alice and James' dance. Alice was a very elegant dancer and choreographer, and this dance was anything but elegant. It seemed like James spent most of the salsa trying to hump Alice's leg. It was horrific. Jasper did not look best pleased when they came back, and he shot daggers at James. I was fairly certain that after the show, Jasper would give James a talking to. I figured that Alice would view it as bullying if I joined in, so I thought I'd leave Jasper to seek James out.

After one and three quarter hours of being stuck in the near constant company of both Sam and Leah, I was relieved when the results were in and we were all standing under our spotlights.

It seems that the British public are sadists because Sam and Leah were quickly announced as being through to the next week. They put on an awkward show of hugging each other for the camera, but it was clear that they hated physical contact.

Just when Edward and I were starting to get stressed about whether or not we were through, we were announced. Unlike Sam and Leah, our hugs were genuine and Edward even placed a kiss on the top of my head. He did that occasionally and I always found it confusing. None of my other male friends had ever done that to me, and I'd never seen Edward do it to anyone else. Perhaps it was a sign that he felt something more for me? I quickly quashed the ridiculous notion as best I could. And yet it remained in the back of my head—a little voice telling me that maybe I was his true love. The more rational part of my brain told me that it was complete bollocks, no more than wishful bloody thinking. Yet, I couldn't silence that little voice.

The dance-off came down to Laurent and Kate, and Peter and Tanya. Both couples had actually danced fairly well, but this was at hearts a popularity contest and apparently they were the least popular couples. In the end, Peter and Tanya danced significantly better, and so survived to dance another day.

This week everyone had decided that a party was not on the cards. Everyone wanted to avoid the prospect of being in the same room as Sam and Leah and lots of people were loved up and wanting to spend a low key evening with their partners. Edward and I were still buzzing after the show and had decided to go out for a meal We'd just got changed and were on our way out when Leah cornered us.

"Edward, I need your help," she said.

"What can I do you for?" Edward asked kindly, although I could tell from his eyes that he was a bit worried about what she would ask for.

"I need revenge."

"I thought your revenge was forcing him to continue."

"It was, but it's not good enough. It's not hurting or embarrassing him sufficiently. I need proper revenge on that-fuckwit-who-shall-not-be-named and I have the perfect plan, but I need your help," Leah expanded.

"I'm Sam's friend; I'm not sure I should help."

"He broke up with me on camera. The whole country knows of my humiliation," Leah reasoned.

"True…"

"If you were in my position, wouldn't you want revenge? If you and Bella had got together and then she dumped you on camera for your cousin, wouldn't you want revenge? This is the least I deserve. Like for like. Plus, I've already got the producers' approval," Leah pleaded.

Edward was clearly starting to be won over. "What do you want?" he huffed.

"We're doing the Paso Doble next week, and I have the perfect song. I just need you to help make the singers and band sound right. I don't want a repeat of what they did to your song tonight."

Edward took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What is the song?" he asked, resigned.

"'Gives You Hell' by the All-American Rejects. I considered 'Fuck You' by Cee Lo Green but the producers vetoed it."

Edward couldn't help but smile. "'Gives You Hell' is a perfect song."

"I know. Will you do it?"

"Okay. On one condition," Edward negotiated.

"What?"

"That I can help choreograph."

Leah smiled broadly and held out her hand. "Done."

Edward took Leah's hand and shook it. "I'll try and work it out tomorrow. I'll get back to you on Monday."

"Thanks so much. You're the best," she squealed and walked away, practically skipping.

We made for the exit, but before we could get there, we were cornered.

"Bella, Edward, can I have a word with you before you go?" asked Marc, one of the producers.

"Sure," I replied and we walked over to him.

"I have to remind you two of a bargain we made a few weeks ago. Edward, in order to let you sing, you agreed to let us choose one of your songs. We've decided to play our card now. Next week you'll be dancing to 'Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps.' Okay?" he informed us.

"Isn't that a bit of a ballroom dancing cliché thanks to _Strictly Ballroom_?" I asked.

"_Strictly_ is not afraid of clichés. The choice is ours and we have chosen," Marc reminded me.

"Well, at least it's a good song," I conceded.

"And Edward, are you helping the band with Sam and Leah's song this week?"

"Yeah, and I'm choreographing their dance as well," Edward informed him.

"Why? Sam is a Paso champion," Marc enquired.

"I thought this was meant to be Leah's revenge against Sam? You can't ask him to choreograph vengeance against himself," Edward explained.

"True, but are you going to have enough time between your dance with Bella, the group Waltz and your professional dance?" Marc wondered.

"We're in Blackpool next week, aren't we?" Edward asked and Marc nodded. "I'd forgotten we're in the Tower Ballroom next weekend, but yes, I'll find the time."

Thankfully Marc soon left us alone and we were then able to make our escape.

As Edward drove us to a nice restaurant near his place, I asked, "What is so special next week?"

"It's the Tower Ballroom special next week, coming from England's premiere ballroom, in Blackpool Tower. So there'll be a group Waltz like you have in normal ballroom competitions, with all the couples on the dance floor at the same time."

That didn't sound easy. "Oh."

"Don't worry, you'll find it easy. We did really well in our Waltz, and this time it is just the same steps again and again. Nothing difficult. The only difficult part is the leading and ensuring we don't get boxed in, and I'll be the one driving, so you don't need to worry about that."

That made me feel considerably relieved. "Good."

"And all the professionals are going to be demonstrating a Samba, so we won't have as long as usual to practice because I'll have to practice that as well. But that shouldn't take much more than three hours to learn, so we'll get enough practice time," explained Edward.

"Three hours? You expect to learn a dance in three hours?" I exclaimed. How could they possibly learn a dance that fast?

"Yeah, I already know the steps they'll use; it is just a matter of learning the order and where to stand. I've been dancing for the last twenty-five years, I'm excellent at remembering steps, my muscle memory is great."

"So, I'm really slow?"

"You need to learn the steps and I don't, and that takes a long time. Anyway, I'm glad you take so long, it means I get to spend more time with you."

"And yet you still invite me out to dinner," I pointed out.

"Well, Ms. Swan," he said, looking away from the road for a second and straight into my eyes, "it seems like I just can't get enough of you."

I almost swooned. And just like that, his eyes were back on the road, correcting our now slightly erratic road positioning, and my heart was beating faster than it had ever beaten before.

The small voice at the back of my head started screaming at me, "He loves you, you're the one he fell in love with!" and I began to believe it.

Edward parked the car in the underground car park at his flat complex, and we walked to the restaurant, our hands swinging next to each other's. I could have reached out and grabbed his hand, and it wouldn't have been the first time we'd held hands by a long shot, but that was for work. Holding hands because we wanted to was another matter entirely.

It was a cold November night and I started to shiver. Edward offered me his arm and I gratefully put my hand in the crook of his elbow, snuggling up next to him for warmth. As with the forehead kiss, this wasn't something I'd do with any other man, but Edward was such a gentleman that I could see him proffering his arm to any cold lady. Maybe I wasn't special, but I still had a niggling feeling that I was.

The restaurant was very intimate; the tables were mostly set for two and there were candles on each of them. Looking around it seemed that all the customers were couples on dates. It was an odd choice of venue for a couple of friends. But then again, Edward had said the food was excellent.

We were quickly seated, and as I glanced over the menu, I knew that I'd spend the next hour deciding what to eat, and by that time the kitchen would be closed.

Edward noticed how I was salivating over every item. "The menu is good, isn't it? When I eat here, I find it difficult to pin down exactly what I want. We could always share," he suggested.

Share? That is what you do on a date. If this was a date, I probably should go all out, perhaps even flirt.

"That sounds like a great idea," I replied, twirling my hair around my fingers slightly.

"I can't decide between the oysters or the scallops to start. Would you like to share them?"

Would I like to share oysters with Edward? Hell yes. Breathe, Bella, breathe. Not wanting to sound desperate, I replied, "Ooh yes, they both sound delicious."

I don't actually like the taste of oysters, but watching Edward Cullen eat them was worth the taste. The way he tipped his head back and poured them down his throat was like pure sex, and it made me wish I had a spare pair of knickers. I actually had to distract myself in order to prevent myself from jumping him and making a huge fool out of myself. So instead, I closed my eyes and took a sip of my wine.

"Tired, Bella?" Edward asked.

"A little bit," I lied, "but I'm sure I'll rally."

I took an oyster and, ignoring the taste, I tipped my head back and swallowed it. I swear I heard Edward quietly groan.

"You're not ill are you?" I asked.

"No, what makes you think that I might be?"

"I thought I heard you groan."

"No, no, I'm fine," he responded quickly as his ears tinged red.

Perhaps we both affected each other. That was a nice thought. I decided to test this out and spent the rest of the meal eating as seductively as I possibly could. Constantly slowly licking lips, moaning slightly, I even described my white chocolate cheesecake as "orgasmic" and fed Edward a bite from my fork.

Edward did seem a bit less cool than usual, but I couldn't say whether I had caused that or whether there was another reason.

We left just before the restaurant closed and I turned to walk to the tube station.

"Where are you going?" Edward asked.

"Home. I'm going to get the tube," I responded.

"No, you're not. I'll drive you."

"You've had half a bottle of wine, you're not driving."

"Okay, then I'll join you on the tube," Edward suggested.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm quite capable of getting myself home safely. And the round trip will take two hours. I'm going home alone."

"Okay, taking the tube is patently ridiculous. How about a compromise—stay at my place tonight."

The two glasses of wine I'd had weren't enough to make me drunk, but they were enough to make me bold—to make a small move. Heck, it had been way too long since I had sex and I'd spent part of the evening watching Edward eat oysters; I was gagging for it.

"Where?" I asked.

"At my place."

"No, where would I be sleeping?" I took a small step towards Edward, bit my lip and looked up at him through my eyelashes.

Edward gulped. "In my spare room," he quickly replied.

So, I was wrong, he didn't fancy me, let alone love me. Thankfully, I'd spent so long thinking this that it was easy for me to be resigned. I took a step backwards. "Okay. I can't be bothered to go home anyway."

We settled into an uncomfortable silence as we walked the short distance to Edward's. Clearly we needed to get over my come on, and quickly, so I racked my brainto think of a conversation starter.

"What do you have in mind for Sam and Leah's Paso?"

"In ballroom, the man always takes the lead, and this is particularly evident in the Paso Doble, although the woman is very strong and firm. I want to reverse these roles and have Leah taking the lead and bossing Sam around. I was thinking that it should end with Sam flat on the floor with Leah standing with one foot on his chest," Edward described. "What do you think?"

I smiled broadly; it was excellent. "I think that Leah will get the best revenge ever."

We went to bed as soon as we got to Edward's. The sheets in the spare room looked like they hadn't been changed since I last stayed there, but that didn't bother me. I put on the T-shirt that I'd borrowed from Edward, climbed in and immediately noticed how much the sheets smelled like Edward. They were definitely infused with Edward's scent, and they hadn't been before. Had Edward slept in this bed? No, of course he wouldn't; why would he do that? His room was the next one along. Whatever the reason for the sheets smelling like Edward one thing was certain; I fell asleep much quicker and slept deeper than I had in a long time.

Glossary

Fun bags: Boobs.

Lass: Girl

Reet: Yorkshire slang. A preface to emphasise a word, a bit like saying 'very.' Technically means 'right'.

Tights: Pantyhose.

Please review. I appreciate everyone.


	13. Consequences

Chapter Number & Title: 13 – Consequences

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my awesome betas Mcc101180 and Rodeomom_95.

**Contains some British slang terms. As usual there is a glossary at the bottom to help. **

Chapter 13

EPOV

Last night was fucking awesome. Bella and I had spent our night flirting and I had an inkling that she may return my feelings.

She had also driven me bloody insane with her behaviour. She was so sexy. I was very grateful for the presence of a table between us otherwise it could have been a mite embarrassing.

At the end of the night, she came onto to me and I very nearly took her up on her offer; it took every ounce of chivalry in me to turn her down. It was a bit uncomfortable for a short while afterwards, but we seemed to get over it. Hopefully that was the end of the awkwardness because that was what I'd been trying to avoid all along. Seeing what happened to Sam and Leah further strengthened my resolve to hold off being in a relationship with Bella until after the show. I just hoped that Bella wouldn't push it again until the competition was over; I wasn't sure I'd be able to turn her down again.

On the positive side, it was a Sunday morning and I had Bella with me. I woke up early and was going to pick up some fresh ingredients and a newspaper to make Bella breakfast. Careful to make sure that I was fully dressed before leaving my room —I didn't want Bella to catch another eyeful of my naked body before I willingly showed her— I slipped out of my room. Putting my ear against the spare bedroom door, I could hear Bella breathing slowly; she was still fast asleep.

I put my coat on and quietly snuck out quietly into the cold November day. Popping to my local Sainsbury's, I filled my basket with fresh bread, croissants, eggs, bacon, dark chocolate, coffee, fruit and yoghurt, not forgetting a newspaper too. I was going to make Bella the best breakfast she'd ever had.

I quickly returned home and checked on Bella. She was still asleep so I quickly set to work.

Half an hour later, I quietly knocked on her door.

"Bella, I've made you breakfast," I called out and opened the door slowly.

I was greeted with a vision of beauty. She looked up at me with barely open eyes, her hair was a mess, and she was wearing one of my t-shirts. She looked gorgeous. Hopefully one day she'd wake up next to me in a very similar state, although perhaps without the t-shirt…

"Do you want your breakfast in here or in the dining room?" I asked.

I prayed she wouldn't say she wanted it in the spare room. I didn't think it would be wise for Bella and I to be in a bedroom together, let alone sitting on a bed…

"Is the heating on?" she responded.

"Yes."

"Then I'll get up," she decided.

Bella got out of the bed, stood up and stretched. My t-shirt was big on her and would normally come up to her mid-thigh, but by the act of stretching, she very nearly revealed heaven to me. All that was protecting her modesty was her lacy knickers. And to top it all off, I was fairly certain she wasn't wearing a bra. Fuck me.

Her costume from the previous day was far smaller than the t-shirt she was wearing now, but she had to wear that and I had to remain professional. Now she was voluntarily wearing my t-shirt and I had only my chivalry to stop me doing something I'd regret.

We went into the dining room, with Bella still only wearing my t-shirt, and she sat down opposite me for breakfast, giving me a perfect view of her gently swaying boobs. They alone made the effort I put into making breakfast worth it.

"Wow, Edward!" she exclaimed. "This is a spread and a half. What have I done to deserve this?"

Really I was doing this to show my love for her, and to apologise for turning her down last night. Now I was also as a way of thanking her for the lack of bra, but I couldn't tell her that. So instead I replied, "I just wanted to celebrate that we survived last night, that we're still in the competition and we're going to Blackpool."

"I thought we celebrated that last night," Bella pointed out.

"I wanted to continue the celebration a while longer. You don't mind, do you?"

"When you cook up a storm like this, how could I mind?"

Bella filled her plate with all different kinds of breakfast goodies.

"When are we heading up to Blackpool?" she asked between mouthfuls of pancakes.

"Thursday, why?"

"Would there be enough time for me to get to see Charlie—my dad—and my gran? I haven't seen them for about a year and a half and they live in Keswick, which is reasonably close to Blackpool," she explained.

"You could probably manage to get Thursday or Friday afternoon off, although we'd have to put some extra practice in earlier in the week."

"Excellent. Want to come with me? We could walk round Derwentwater or perhaps hire a rowing boat; it's gorgeous at this time of year," Bella suggested.

There was nothing I'd like more than to go on a romantic stroll or boat ride with Bella, but if her dad were to join us it didn't sound nearly as appealing.

"If it's been this long since you last saw your family, I'm sure they'd want you all to themselves. I'd hate to get in the way of your reunion."

"Charlie isn't exactly verbose, and Gran is always convinced that I've got far better things to do than talk to her and so will be trying to force me out of the house as soon as I get there. Trust me, you wouldn't be getting in the way of our reunion. And I'd really like you there," Bella pleaded.

How could I possibly turn her down after that? "I'll see what I can do, but it's going to be a very busy week for me."

"Thank you!" She came round the table and gave me a big hug, putting me in very close proximity to her unsupported boobs. "I think Charlie and Gran will really like you."

Shit, that is tacit admission that I'm going to be grilled by her father. He is a police superintendant, so he should be pretty observant; he'll know that I'm in love with her. Fuck. He will know that I want to have sex with his daughter. He is going to hate me.

Bella called her dad and was soon smiling from ear to ear.

"I'll see you soon, Dad. Are you sure you and Gran don't want tickets to the show? ... Okay, see you Thursday or Friday."

She turned to me. "He's looking forward to seeing us."

"Good, I'm looking forward to meeting him," I lied.

"He says he'll take us around the island on the lake on the police speedboat. But he isn't going to come to the recording because dancing isn't his thing, and Gran is finding it difficult to travel at the moment and so can't come."

"That is a shame."

"I didn't have high hopes that they'd say yes anyway." She paused and despite her words looked disappointed. "Anyway, what are our plans for today?"

"I need to choreograph two dances; I've already worked out most of Sam and Leah's Paso, but our Argentine Tango is an unknown entity at the moment," I explained.

"Do you mind if I hang around today and try to do some writing? I've hardly done any this week and am desperate to write some more. I feel like I might implode with plot ideas," Bella asked. "Plus, I like hanging out with you."

"I'd like nothing more."

"Well, it's a good thing I brought my laptop with me, isn't it?"

By lunchtime, I'd planned out and written down the Paso and was beginning to work on the Argentine Tango.

I looked through my iPhone for Doris Day's version of "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps," put it on and closed my eyes to imagine the dance. I envisioned Bella starting off under a spotlight and pulling some strong Argentine Tango style shapes before I danced across the dance floor to join her. From then on, the dance would be full of swivelling hips and "whiplash" legs, pivoting walks, and with Bella in my arms the whole time except for when I lift her up. The song almost demanded that we act out a story; it is about a rake who refuses to commit himself and admit that he loves his partner, who openly loves him. Sadly art somewhat imitates life. However, Bella doesn't love me, and I can't be open about my love for her, although I am fully prepared to commit the moment we leave _Strictly_. Still, it was slightly too close to home.

Now that I had it planned out, I wanted to see it performed. Unfortunately, my flat was too small. Glancing out of the window, I noticed that it wasn't raining.

"Bella, do you fancy going for a walk?" I asked.

She stopped her frantic typing and looked up from her laptop. "Huh?"

"Do you want to go for a walk? There is a nice park nearby that is beautiful at this time of the year; the trees turn lovely colours in the autumn," I explained.

"Sure, just let me finish this paragraph."

Several pages later, Bella reluctantly shut her laptop ,and we wrapped ourselves up in our coats and scarves ready for the chilly weather.

"Why have you got your laptop with you?" I asked, indicating the bag in her hand.

"I'm feeling very inspired at the moment. I may need to stop and type," she justified.

Unfortunately she in turn started to interrogate me. I was carrying a bag with me, and Bella noticed.

"What's in the bag?"

"You'll find out," I responded mysteriously.

"Are you up to something?" she asked slyly.

"I might be."

"Are you going to tell me any more than that?" Bella enquired.

"No. Come on." I led Bella out of the door and closed it behind us.

Soon we were walking in the small but beautiful park. Built in the nineteenth century it had avenues of trees, the leaves of which were a beautiful mix of yellows, reds and oranges, as well as a playground, bandstand and a currently non-functioning fountain.

I led Bella to the fountain. The location was damn near perfect; there was a wide circular piece of tarmac surrounding it, providing us with a fairly sizeable dance floor.

Out of my bag I removed an iPhone docking station, and plugged in my iPhone. Bella looked at me with a wry smile.

"It's all work, work, work with you, isn't it? You've got a one-track mind," Bella teased. "Here I was me thinking you may just have wanted a nice walk and possibly brought a picnic with you. But no, you just want to dance. Ah well, a girl can dream…"

"I would love to have a picnic with you, and when _Strictly_ is over, I shall make it a priority to take you on the nicest picnic you've ever been on, with champagne, strawberries, and everything you could wish for. But now I want to dance."

The subject of what would happen to us after _Strictly_ had always been taboo, but Bella smiled broadly at the mention of a prospect of something after it. I took that as a sign that she didn't want us to end along with it, for which I was very grateful.

"I want us to start practicing our Argentine Tango. I think it is going to be great; it is very much our style of dance. To start I want you to pull some very strong, proud, Argentine moves. Have you seen this dance before?"

"Yes, you know I am a fan." Bella blushed slightly while saying this, but why was she embarrassed to have watched _Strictly_? Come to think of it, most of her friends are bikers, so maybe for her it was embarrassing to admit that. But it was just me; she shouldn't be ashamed of it in front of me.

"So you know the kinds of moves I mean?" I asked and Bella nodded. "I'll help you improve them later if necessary, but for the moment, just try your best. In this dance you're playing the role of a very self-assured and confident woman who is trying to persuade a good friend of hers to admit that he is in love with her. You need to be very sexy, not that you have any problem with that. So, you pull your shapes, and I'll then dance towards you and will lead the dance. Just do your best. Okay?"

"Okay," she responded.

I pressed play and quickly ran to my starting position.

Bella stood tall, proud, and slightly haughty. Perfect. She started to pull shapes like the best of them and looked very sexy. I could improve them slightly but not much.

I danced over to her and took her in my arms. I led her around, and she seemed to anticipate the footwork. It was almost as if it was her favourite dance and she'd watched the dances again and again, perhaps even having a go at them at home. I lifted Bella up, and she responded naturally, curling around my body. It was the right dance and the right song for us. It was wonderful.

On the third to last "perhaps" Bella grabbed my scarf, and at each of the next "perhaps" she pulled me in slightly closer until our noses were touching. We were both breathing very heavily and it was extremely tempting to lean in and kiss her. It was a fantastic ending and suggested that Bella may have some talent at choreography.

"That was great!" I hugged her tightly, picked her up and twirled her around.

She laughed a laugh of pure joy.

"You and I are bloody brilliant. I think we could win this thing," I said.

"Don't tempt fate!" Bella squealed, jokingly hitting me.

I put her down. "Sorry! But you were really good. If that is our first go, we'll be bloody excellent by Saturday. A little bit of polishing here and there and we'll get a near perfect score," I said gleefully, meaning every single word.

"Now you've done it. This'll be our last week because you tempted fate so much."

"Well, we'll have to beat fate now, won't we? Want to start practising?"

In the middle of the icily cold park, we practised for the next hour, breaking up the tedium of repetition with the occasional waltz.

At the end of our forth run-through, we heard applause. We looked around, surprised. A small audience of dog walkers, joggers and families had accumulated and were cheering us.

Bella blushed and buried her head in my shoulder, embarrassed.

"Come on, let's meet our supporters. After all, every vote counts," I suggested.

I took Bella's hand and pulled her over to our spectators.

"What did you think?" I asked them all.

"Ten!" a yummy mummy called out.

"Ten!" giggled a dog walker.

"Ten!" a little boy shouted.

The dog walker, a woman in her twenties, came up to me. "I'm your biggest fan. I love you two, and I vote for you each week," she said. "I know it's cheeky but I've got to ask, are you two dating?"

That was indeed a bit bloody cheeky, but you have to keep your fans on side, so I decided to be truthful. "We're just very good friends."

"Does that mean you're single?" she asked flirtatiously.

I hated fans like this, turning them down while keeping them as fans was damn near impossible.

"Yes, but only because _Strictly_ keeps me far too busy at the moment," I lied; I was quite capable of finding time if I wished.

"Perhaps you should give me a call when the show is over and you've got more time." She handed me a business card with her number. "It was nice meeting you, Edward."

Bella had seen this exchange and looked angry. We posed for a few photos together and she was behaving very coldly towards me. As soon as we were alone again, I tried to rectify this. I took the business card out of my pocket and ripped it up in front of Bella, dropping it into a nearby bin. "I have no intention of calling her. I was just trying to be polite. I didn't want to turn her down; we need all the votes we can get," I explained.

"So because I can't vote, I get turned down?" Bella asked bitterly. Clearly last night was still in the forefront of her mind.

"Turning you down was the hardest thing I've ever done. I didn't want to," I admitted.

"Then why did you?" she demanded.

"Because I couldn't bear for us to suffer the same fate as Sam and Leah," I responded honestly, looking her directly in the eyes. "_Strictly _is not the right time to start a relationship."

"What makes you think that we'll make the same mistakes as Sam and Leah? But then again, perhaps your 'One True Love' will turn up and fuck everything up."

"Trust me, that won't happen, but _Strictly _is very stressful and it isn't fair to put a new relationship under that kind of pressure."

"It isn't that stressful; you're just making excuses. And anyway, you don't get anything in life without taking a gamble. Throw the dice, Edward, take a chance."

"Now isn't the right time for us." And in a few short weeks it will be. Hang in there, please.

"I don't get it. We're both single, attractive, have great chemistry and are good friends. Why the fuck are we not together?"

"Because now isn't the right time for us," I repeated.

"Actions speak louder than words, Edward, and your actions were pretty fucking loud when we were at Scouting."

What was she talking about? I couldn't remember doing anything inappropriate with her at Scouting, but then I couldn't remember much from that night…

I looked into her eyes and whispered, "Bella…"

"Don't worry. I'm not surprised that you're letting me down gently. I know you're out of my league, at least when you're sober I am," she said resignedly.

This was heartbreaking; I wanted to say something but couldn't find the words, and I stood by my decision, now was not the right time. All I could say was, "What happened at Scouting?"

"Google it. Everyone in the whole fucking world knows except you," she spat and refused to meet my eye. "It's getting dark now. We should go to our homes, or in my case, hotel room."

"You could stay tonight, you could stay for as long as you want," I offered.

"No, I need some space. Which way to the tube?"

"Bella…"

"Don't, Edward, we've each said enough. I think we both need some space to think things through. How do I get to the station?"

I gave her directions and watched her walk away.

Fuck.

I ran home. I had to know what had happened at Scouting.

Opening up my laptop, I quickly googled "Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen."

The first hit had the title "Edward and Bella: Officially a Couple!" I clicked on it. There was a huge picture of Bella and I kissing against a wall, presumably outside Scouting. There was no doubting it—it was us and we were kissing. I looked for signs that it had been photoshopped but I couldn't see any. So I did an image search and found loads of similar pictures. They can't all have been fakes.

Bella and I had snogged, and by the looks of it, I'd been the one to make the move.

How long had Bella known, and why couldn't I remember? Surely I should remember our first kiss.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I must remember it.

"_Bella, I love you, I fucking love you," I slurred._

"_You don't need to lie to get into my knickers." Bella giggled._

"_I'm not lying. It was love at first sight. You're the woman for me," I insisted._

"_Shut the fuck up and kiss me," she demanded._

_I didn't need to be told twice. My mouth crashed into hers, and I kissed her like my life depended on it. Bella wrapped a leg around my waist as I ground myself against her, kissing her harder._

"_For God's sake!" someone uttered, and I found myself being pulled away from Bella. I turned to see Renee looking at me, really pissed. "You'll want to be sober the first time you fuck, trust me, and it'd be better if you didn't have an audience." She gestured over her shoulder and I looked to see a swarm of paparazzi._

"_Shit," hiccupped Bella._

"_Shit indeed," Renee responded. "Look, there is Phil—" she gestured at a car that was pulling up—"he is taking you two back to our place. I think you two need to go to sleep. __**In separate beds**__."_

Fuck. How could I do that? How much did Bella know? Clearly she didn't remember our conversation; otherwise she'd have guessed that she was the woman I loved. And why didn't she tell me?

How was I going to mend our friendship?

**Please review. I appreciate everyone.**

Glossary – only two words this week (I'm losing my touch)

Superintendent: British chief of police.

Yummy mummy: An attractive mother, usually in her early thirties. A more polite, British version of MILF.


	14. Positivity

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my betas, Mcc101180 and Rodeomom_95, who know their way around a comma far better than I do. This chapter (as they all are) is readable because of them.

**Contains some British slang terms. As usual there is a glossary at the bottom to help.**

Chapter 14

BPOV

I stormed away in the direction of the tube station, but I had no real plans as to where I was going to go.

I was fuming at Edward. For weeks, he'd been giving me signals that he was interested in being more than just friends, yet when I finally challenge him on it, he turns me down. Worse still were the pathetic excuses he came up with. Instead of trying to let me down gently, he should have ripped the plaster off and told me straight that he was out of my league.

Why did I allow myself to misread the signals so badly? Why did I get my hopes up? Pride comes before a fucking fall.

I had two choices for tonight: I could either spend the night alone wallowing, or I could try and find someone to keep me company. I knew only one person in London who would happily spend the evening slagging off men with me, and that was Leah.

A quick phone call and an hour and a half on public transport later, I arrived at Leah's flat with two bottles of wine and a big bar of chocolate.

After buzzing me up, Leah opened the door as soon as I knocked. She gave me a huge hug. "Come in and tell me what that twat said."

Over a bottle of wine, I explained how he'd turned me down and was pretending to have found it difficult.

"Perhaps he really does love you and is doing what he thinks is best," Leah said diplomatically.

"What he thinks is _best_? What about what I think is best? A relationship is not a dictatorship; we need to discuss this. But _men always know what is best_," I said, sarcastically. "Fuckwit."

"He should have discussed it with you first, but maybe he has a point," Leah reasoned.

"Whose side are you on?" I shot back.

"Yours, obviously, but what if his 'love at first sight' girl turns up? Trust me, you don't want to go through what I'm going through right now."

"True. Who is this woman?"

"No clue." Leah looked as stumped as I felt.

"I think Seth worked it out the other night over dinner." I recollected.

"Why?"

"He and Edward had some kind of silent conversation going on while we were talking about it. Edward mutely pleaded with him, and Seth nodded in agreement."

"Ooh! He may know. Let's ask him!"

Leah pulled out her phone and called Seth, sticking it on loudspeaker so I could participate too.

"Leah! How are you?" Seth answered.

"I'm good, as is Bella, who is here with me."

"Hi, Seth! How're you?"

"Hey, Bella. I'm good, thanks. Is this call for business or pleasure?" Seth asked.

Leah got straight down to business. "Hopefully a bit of both. It's about Edward. Do you know who he is love with?"

"Why would he tell me?" Seth countered, clearly avoiding the question.

"He didn't; you worked it out when we were at dinner last week," I insisted.

"No I didn't." Seth laughed at the suggestion.

"What else was your little silent conversation about then?" Leah demanded.

"I asked him where he bought his shirt?" Seth desperately invented.

"Liar!" Leah yelled, "You can't have that conversation without saying anything, and I've tried."

"Plus men don't talk about that," I reasoned. "So, who does he love?"

Seth sighed. "Alright, I know but I'm not going to tell you."

"Why not?" Leah asked.

"Bros before hos."

"He is hardly your bro and last time I checked we aren't hos either," Leah observed.

"Look, you two are intelligent and it isn't hard to fucking work out. Everyone else seems to know there is something going on between him and the woman in question. They even got photographed snogging recently."

I froze in shock. Leah looked at me. "It is you! He loves you! You snogged him at Scouting and were snapped by the paparazzi. Am I right, Seth?"

"Officially I can neither confirm nor deny your statement. But unofficially, of course it fucking is. Who else? How the hell did it take you so long?"

Edward loved me? He fell in love with me at first sight? No, that couldn't be right, I'm just plain old No Fella Bella; no man would ever think about me that way. Let alone the gorgeous, intelligent, kind and talented Edward Cullen. He could have any woman he wanted. Why would he choose me?

"Bella? Are you okay? You've gone silent and you're as white as a sheet." I still didn't say a word. "I'm going to get you a cup of tea."

A few minutes later, she pressed a mug of hot milky tea into my hands. I was brought back into the land of the living and I realised that the phone call had ended. "I know that this comes as a bit of a surprise, but it really shouldn't. You two have amazing chemistry, get on really well, are attractive and are both single. The gossip magazines have spent the past few weeks saying that you two were going at it like rabbits."

"But why me? He could have anyone but he chose me."

"If it was love at first sight, I don't think he had much of a say in it. Exactly what did he say to you today?"

"He said that turning me down was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and that his true love wouldn't turn up and fuck things up for us, and that now wasn't the time for us. And before that he promised to take me out for a picnic after _Strictly_ is over. Shit. He does love me," I realised.

"He does, you lucky bitch."

"How do I act now?"

"How do you feel about him?"

"I think I'm falling in love him too," I admitted.

"Act normally, perhaps give him some hints that you feel the same way as he does. Then in a few days make another move. This time try and reason with him. Keep making moves till you wear out his defences," Leah advised. "If he keeps rejecting you, don't let it get to you, because you know he loves you."

"Edward loves me," I said. "Edward loves me. Edward loves me!" I started jumping around the room yelling, "Edward loves me!" giggling like a schoolgirl.

Leah just watched me, amused. "I don't think you need any more wine."

I calmed down a few minutes later, and Leah helped me plan how to seduce Edward. Soon I had every outfit planned, and I felt ready for the week.

"Thanks so much for your help tonight. I don't know what I'd have done without you," I said to Leah.

"Don't mention it. You helped me when I needed it; I owed you. Just do me a favour and don't be too lovey-dovey when you finally get together. I can't handle yet another loved-up couple."

"Will do. See you tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, I'll be at the _Strictly_ support group."

We hugged and I left feeling a hell of a lot more confident than I had when I entered.

I was a bit apprehensive upon walking into our rehearsal studio, but I was confident that I looked fuck hot. I was wearing skinny jeans, a fairly transparent blouse that showed off a good deal of cleavage, a tweed jacket and navy fuck-me heels. I'd woken up early so I had time to spend doing my hair, makeup and accessories. I looked the best I had ever made myself. Sure, I'd have to change because I couldn't dance in this, but I wanted to make damn sure that Edward got an eyeful of exactly what he had turned down.

Edward had his back to me and was fiddling with the stereo and chatting to the cameramen when I walked in. I stood just in front of the doors and let them slam behind me as I stood tall and confident. Last night Leah had taught me how to make an entrance and I would damn well use what I had learned.

As the doors slammed, Edward turned to look at me. His eyes widened and he was temporarily dumbstruck.

"Bella, how are you?" he asked when he recovered the use of his brain, and he walked towards me.

"I'm fantastic, Edward, and yourself?"

"Good, you're okay about yesterday?" he asked quietly.

"That little spat? I think we should put it behind us, pretend it never happened."

"I'm glad you said that. I feel the same way. Are you ready to start?"

"I just need to get changed. As much as I love this outfit, unfortunately I can't dance in it." I gestured at my body.

Edward gulped. "Of course."

I left the room and walked in a few minutes later in a low cut exercise top that I'd borrowed from Leah. Edward did a double take at the sight of my cleavage. Better get used to it, mate, because you're going to be seeing an awful lot of it this week.

The practice went really well and trying to drive Edward insane with lust was really fun, and surprisingly easy. At the start of the dance, I have to pull some shapes and I repeatedly deliberately got them wrong so that Edward had to put his hands on my body to correct them.

"You were great at these yesterday; what changed?" he asked exasperatedly as he stood behind me and placed his hands on my hips to move me. I pushed my bum into his pelvis and distinctly felt a hardening in that area then heard a groan as he stepped away from me.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were doing it on purpose," he said.

"What, me?" I replied innocently.

I also succeeded in dropping lots of things in front of him so that I had to bend over to pick them up, and I even managed to shove my cleavage into his face a few times, accidentally, of course.

He was getting more and more frustrated, and even disappeared into the bathroom for a considerable time. Operation Seduction seemed to be a success so far.

That evening, after going shopping with Leah for more sexy clothes, we went to the Commercial Tavern for our _Strictly _support group. It had started out as a place where the celebrities could moan about how hard it all was without the professionals telling us that it was easy but increasingly it was just a place to hang out.

Usually Jessica spent the entire time trying to unsuccessfully flirt with Jake but this time he had brought Nessie to protect himself from the onslaught, so she focussed on the only other single man there; James. As far as I was concerned, the less I had to interact with him the better - he made my skin crawl.

Jake took the chance to have a chat with me in private.

"How well do you know Rosalie?" he asked.

"A bit, but not very well, why?"

"Something is up with her, and I think I know what it is, but if I suggest it she'll kill me."

"What do you think you know?"

"I'm going to give you the facts as I see them and you can make your own conclusions," he said warily.

"Okay," I said doubtfully.

"She has mood swings, she has been really tired, cancelling rehearsals even, she is on a diet and yet gaining weight, her boobs are sore –"

"Whoa there, Nelly! How do you know her boobs are sore?" I asked.

"When trying to grab her armpits for a lift last week. I accidentally grabbed her boobs," he admitted, cringing.

"Emmett is going to kill you." I laughed.

"No need. Rosalie already ripped me a new one," Jake deadpanned. "As I was saying, she has also been sick in the mornings."

"Oh my God, she is pregnant!"

"Precisely, but I don't think she knows. Could you tell her for me?" he pleaded.

"What the fuck?"

"You're a woman, you can understand her better, and you're friends," he reasoned.

"Firstly, I don't understand; I've never been pregnant. Secondly, she'll kill me."

"You've got a better chance of survival than me. Look, she needs to be told. How can we do this?" he asked.

I thought about it for a moment and then the answer seemed obvious. "Alice."

Jacob was confused. "Alice? How can she help?"

"Alice is her best friend, and she's a busy body. She is our best hope."

I called Alice and told her about Jake's supposition.

"It's impossible; she's infertile. Her and Emmett have been trying for years," Alice said.

I had Jake list the symptoms and she suddenly changed her opinion.

"Holy fuck! She is pregnant! And she is going to have a beautiful little girl called Trudy," she predicted.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, but do you think she could be pregnant?" I asked.

"No could about it, she is well and truly knocked up."

"How do we get her to take a test?"

"The boys are having a guys night at Edward's at the moment, but Rose was too knackered to hang out with me, so is home alone. Tonight is our best chance. Where are you? I'm coming to pick you up," she said.

"The Commercial Tavern in Shoreditch, but it's miles from your home."

"I'll be there in ten. Can you buy provisions, please?"

"Provisions?"

"Pregnancy tests, three minimum I think; chocolate; wine and non-alcoholic options—that sort of thing," Alice clarified.

"Alright."

"I'll meet you out the front in ten minutes."

I took my time saying my goodbyes and picking up the "provisions" because there was no way that Alice could make it across central London in ten minutes, no one could.

As I exited the supermarket armed with pregnancy tests, as well as celebratory and commiseratory food and drink, I saw Alice leaning against her yellow Porsche with her arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"I said ten minutes."

"How did you make it here that quickly? That is super human and totally illegal, plus I couldn't decide what pregnancy tests to go for, there are so many," I explained.

Alice huffed, "Come on, it's getting late."

London sped by us. "How many speeding tickets do you have?" I asked

"None."

"None? But you always drive over the speed limit!"

Alice shrugged. "My GPS tells me where the cameras are."

I dreaded to think how fast we were going, but fifteen minutes later we pulled up in front of a posh house in W1.

We hopped out and she rang the bell.

After a few minutes of ringing, an angry Rosalie opened the door. "What?" she demanded. "Oh, it's you two. What're you doing here?" She stood back from the doorway, inviting us in.

"Some rumours have been circulating about you, and we want to put them to bed," Alice explained as we walked into her living room.

"What rumours?" Rose asked warily.

"Sit down first and then we'll tell you," I suggested.

Rose looked at me like she was ready to commit murder. "No! I will not sit down. Tell me what people are saying."

"They think you're pregnant," Alice responded quietly.

Rose let out a hollow laugh. "If only that were possible."

"The rumours are based on evidence. You've been tired, moody, dieting and yet gaining weight. No one gains weight on _Strictly_, no one," Alice reasoned. "You've been sick in the mornings and your boobs are sore."

"Who knew that my boobs are sore besides Emmett?" Rosalie paused thoughtfully "Jacob Fucking Black! I'll kill that tosser."

"He only told me because he is concerned for you. Is all of that true?" I asked.

Rosalie sunk to the floor. "Yes, but I've been told that I'm infertile. I can't have kids," she wept.

Alice sat next to her and put her arm around Rose. "Why don't you take a test? One little test can't hurt. We brought some with us," she suggested.

"Will you guys take them as well?" Rose asked, "I'm terrified."

"Of course we will," Alice agreed.

We all took our turns in the toilet and carefully labelled our tests to avoid farcical confusion.

Rose sat on the edge of her seat eating chocolate until the three minutes were up.

"It's time," said Alice, "shall I look?"

Rose nodded and Alice walked over to the counter where we'd placed them. Taking a deep breath, she picked up Rose's test. She looked at it, smiled and walked back over to Rose.

"Congratulations, you're going to be a mum."

Rose stopped weeping, stunned. "False positives are possible. Are there any more I could try?"

I'd picked up three boxes of two and so Rose eagerly tested herself three more times. All were positive.

"I'm going to be a mum!" she yelled triumphantly, jumping around the room. "Where is Emmett? I need to tell him now!"

She made a dash for her phone, but Alice and I managed to stop her before she called him.

"Tell him in person; get him here now," I advised.

Half an hour later, a frantic Emmett ran through the front door with Edward and Jasper in tow. "Where's Rose? What's wrong with my Rose?"

Rose ran at him and jumped onto him, securing her legs around his waist. "I'm pregnant! We're having a baby!"

Emmett turned pale and fainted. Rose slipped from his grasp; luckily Jasper ran forward and caught her just before she hit the ground. Edward tried to do the same for Emmett but just ended up being squashed under Emmett's bulk.

We helped Edward extricate himself and then set to work fanning Emmett's face in an attempt to wake him. Nothing was working until Rose slapped him.

"Wake up, sleepy head! You're going to be a daddy and I can't have the father of my child fainting all the time."

Emmett slowly opened his eyes. "You're pregnant? I'm going to be a dad?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I took four tests."

Emmett jumped up and started dancing round the room. "Who's the daddy? I'm the daddy!"

I retrieved the champagne from my bag and soon we were all toasting the happy couple.

We didn't stay long; instead letting the happy couple have a private celebration and work out what to do next. Edward offered to give me a lift home, and for once I readily accepted.

"What will they do now?" I asked him.

"Emmett will probably wrap Rosalie in cotton wool for the remainder of her pregnancy; they won't let anything happen to her that might cause a miscarriage. And then when the baby comes, it'll be the most spoilt child in history."

"Will she carry on with _Strictly_?"

"I doubt it. Anyway she's been too tired lately to be able to do her job well."

"What will happen to Jake?"

"No idea."

The next day all my questions were answered. First thing in the morning, Emmett and Rosalie called up the producers with their joyful news and Rosalie resigned, and Charlotte Dixie became Jake's new partner.

Later that morning when Edward and I were practicing and I was trying to subtly flash Edward my stockings and suspenders, Emmett called Edward.

"Four fucking months pregnant and we had no clue!" he crowed through the loudspeaker on the phone. "And we're having the most beautiful little girl. They did a 3D ultrasound and she is adorable! You two have to come round for dinner tonight so we can show you."

"We'd love to," Edward replied. My heart started to beat a little bit faster when I heard him refer to us as "we."

"Seven alright with you?"

"We'll be there." And there it was again. Swoon.

"I better warn you that I'm cooking. I won't let Rose lift a finger for the rest of the pregnancy."

"I'm sure you'll do great but I can help if necessary," I offered.

"That would be awesome, see you tonight."

The professionals were practising their routine in the afternoon, so I was able to have a look in the posh baby boutique near our studio to for a present for Emmett and Rose. I soon found the perfect babygro; it had "Mama said I was a dancer before I was born" written on it. Sure, it was tacky in the extreme, but I knew that they'd really appreciate it. I really enjoyed looking around the shop, but I rushed to the cash desk when I realised with a start that I was feeling broody. I'm only twenty-six, single, and way too young to be thinking such thoughts, but damn it, babies are lovely.

When I was at the cash desk buying the baby grow and trying to not think about how cute babies are, I ran slap bang into Edward.

"I thought you had to race off to practise."

"I'm meant to, but then I remembered about the baby shop and I decided to get Emmett and Rose a present. What did you get?"

I showed him the babygro.

"Emmett will love it, and their daughter will look so pretty in that!" he cooed.

"Please don't go on about how sweet babbers are," I pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Because cooing goes straight to my ovaries and makes me want kids," I explained.

"So you want to have kids, do you?" he asked, suddenly looking very serious.

"One day. How about you?"

"One day." And just like that I was imagining having kids with Edward. Images of me being heavily pregnant and having him proudly rub my bump, us carrying our children home from the hospital, and teaching them to ride a bike popped into my mind. I realised that I had started to daydream in front of Edward and then forced myself not to think about it, but looking at him, he seemed to be imagining something too. I only hoped we were having very similar daydreams.

"Look, you're in a rush and I need to get away from all things babber-related. We can give them this from both of us," I suggested.

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all, now be gone with you," I said. "I'll see you tonight."

"I'll pick you up at 6.15."

He gave me a peck on the cheek and ran out of the shop.

I went for a late lunch with Leah and we filled each other in with all the gossip. She was surprised but delighted to hear about Rose and Emmett, and was pleased about how Operation Seduction was going on.

"I give him three days before he folds. The flashing of stockings and suspenders was pure genius and will certainly have accelerated things," she estimated.

On her side, the revenge dance was going well.

"Edward is a choreographic genius! The dance is awesome. Sam hates it and keeps mumbling about how this is the dance version of castration. It's perfect."

"Fantastic. I can't wait to see it."

Her mood suddenly became more sombre, and she said, "In related news, I've decided that this will be my last week. There is no point in continuing after I get my revenge; it'll just be torture."

"I'll miss you so much, but I understand entirely," I sympathised, squeezing her hand.

Soon afterwards, we finished lunch and went our separate ways.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in a café in the middle of Hyde Park, first being interviewed for the Guardian's Q&A section, and then working on the first draft of my new novel.

At seven, Edward and I pulled up in front of Rose and Emmett's place, bringing with us a curious combination of things for the baby—Edward had found another baby shop and apparently ransacked it—and alcohol.

We knocked and Rose answered the door with Emmett running after her.

"I said I'd get it! Sit down and relax," he said, exasperated.

"I can't spend the next five months on the sofa," she complained.

"Yes, you can."

"The doctor said I should stay active, although she did agree that we were right to have me quit _Strictly_," Rose argued.

"You've been active enough for the whole of your pregnancy, let me look after you for just a bit," Emmett pleaded.

"Fine, but this isn't over." Rose stalked over to the sofa.

I followed her.

"Sorry that you had to witness that," she apologised.

"Don't worry about it. At least you'll get plenty of make-up sex, eh?"

Rose shot a derisory look at Emmett. "I wish, he says he won't touch me for the next five months."

"What? Why not? It won't hurt the baby and it'll keep you both happy, so it's a win-win."

"I know, that is exactly what the doctor said too, but Emmett has read some article on the Internet that connects sex in pregnancy with miscarriage. It has no evidence to back up its claims but he's steadfast in his refusal."

"Walk around the house in sexy lingerie and bend over in front of him. He won't last three days," I suggested.

"True. Is that what you're trying with Edward?" she asked, changing tack.

"Excuse me?"

"Until yesterday I'd never really seen you flash cleavage before, at least not when you've a choice in the matter, and suddenly you're dressed like a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. Am I wrong?"

"Fuck, you're perceptive." I took a deep breath and prepared to reveal all. "He's basically told me that he really likes me, but that _Strictly_ isn't the right time to start a relationship."

"And you're trying to persuade him that now is the perfect time?"

"Yep."

"I think you're doing a great job — Edward looks like he has blue balls."

"You think?" I asked, delighted.

"Definitely, and he keeps shooting surreptitious glances at you. It won't be long before he caves."

"Thanks."

Emmett and Edward joined us, with Emmett proudly showing off the ultrasound. I cooed politely and we gave them the babygro and other baby-related goodies, which Emmett was delighted with.

"Our daughter will fit into this!" he practically squealed, holding up the babygro. "She is going to be so tiny and so cute. With teeny-weeny fingers and toes! I hope she is the spitting image of her mum."

He went on like this for another five minutes until Alice and Jasper arrived and he showed them the picture and began the cooing all over again.

"He's been like this all day. As soon as we got the picture, he was stopping random strangers on the street and showing it to them. I really hope he stops soon." Rose sighed.

When Emmett stopped telling us about how wonderful his daughter was bound to be, he eventually got around to cooking us all Spag Bol.

As soon as we sat down to eat, Alice started vibrating excitedly. "I wanted to allow the baby talk to go on for a little bit longer, but I really want to tell you all about my exciting news!" she squealed. "I'm going to be on _Loose Women_ tomorrow!"

_Loose Women_ was a live daytime show aimed at bored housewives and students where a panel of mostly middle-aged women discussed the latest celebrity gossip, and the latest poorly researched scientific "discoveries." They may as well have just read the most recent edition of _The Sun_ to the camera and made occasional comments about it.

"I love the show, it's hilarious and I'm so excited to have been invited to go on. I can't wait!" she said.

"What time is it on?" Edward asked.

"Eleven in the morning."

"Well, I'm sure we'll all be watching."

The rest of the dinner table conversation was split between discussion about the baby, and Alice telling everyone who would listen how good _Loose Women_ is and how excited she was to have been invited.

I was very grateful when Edward and I left early, claiming that we'd have to start practising extra early to make up for the time we'd lose by watching _Loose Women_.

"I think my broodiness may have been temporarily solved," I told Edward.

"Only so much baby talk you can take?" he asked.

"Indeed, especially considering they've only known about the baby for twenty-four hours and they've planned an awful lot and possibly swallowed a few baby books."

"They've got four months to make up for. Five months isn't very long to prepare for a baby," Edward reasoned.

"True."

"One day though, you might be the same way."

"What? Only be able to discuss babies? That is a depressing prospect."

"This is everything they've always wanted. They're allowed to be excited," he reminded me.

"Alright! I now feel awful. I will talk babies as much as Emmett wants to and I'll try to listen and make appropriate comments. Okay?"

"Okay."

Edward pulled up in front of my hotel and jumped out to open my door. I climbed out, making sure to flash my stockings and suspenders at him.

"Eight tomorrow at the studio?" he asked.

I leant into the car again and gave him as sensuous a kiss on the cheek as I could, making sure to leave a lipstick mark. "See you then."

With that, I walked away, leaving a dazed Edward behind me.

**Please review. I read and appreciate them all**.

I fear that I may have forgotten to reply to all reviews. I started before work and then forgot where I had got to when I returned home. Sorry if I forgot, but I read them all and was very touched.

Glossary:

Babber: Baby. A Bristolian slang term.

Babygro: A onesie.

Broody: Feeling like you want a baby.

Plaster: Band-aid

Slagging: Verbally abusing someone.

Spag Bol: Spaghetti Bolognaise

The Sun: A tabloid newspaper. Worst journalism you can imagine.

Tosser: Derogatory. Literally someone who masturbates (or "tosses one off"). From that you should be able to work out what "tosspot" means.

W1: A posh London postcode (zip code).


	15. Strictlygate

A/N: Warning: Angst ahead.

Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180.

EPOV

We started practicing early in the morning and it had gone really well, although Bella was acting strangely again. All week she had been wearing more revealing clothes than usual and had been "accidentally" flashing me her underwear. I knew what she was up to, and it wasn't subtle. Unfortunately, it was working, I was permanently aroused around Bella, and several times during rehearsals, I had to nip to the loo to relieve some tension. It was getting more and more difficult to resist her.

The song that we were dancing to wasn't helping either; Bella was constantly entreating me to admit my feelings. I couldn't wait until Saturday was over and at least some of the temptation would be removed.

For once I was at home in the middle of the day, sitting on the sofa in front of the TV. Bella walked in holding a big bowl of popcorn and proceeded to snuggle up next to me.

"I'm really looking forward to this; Alice is bound to be hilarious," she said.

"_Loose Women _is the perfect programme for her."

"Except that she isn't middle-aged," Bella observed.

"But she is very vocal in her opinions. Particularly when she's drunk. I wonder if she's had some shots before the show," I thought aloud.

"Oh – sshhh! It's starting!"

We turned to face the TV as the opening credits started.

"Hello and welcome to _Loose Women_. I'm Kate Thornton and I have Denise Welch and Lynda Bellingham joining me. We also have a brand new panellist, Alice Whitlock from _Strictly Come Dancing_," said the blonde presenter.

Alice was sitting with Kate and two other women in a set designed to look like a kitchen. She was dressed in a bright pink dress and looked very much at home.

They discussed some celebrity gossip in today's papers, there was yet more about the Royal Wedding, and something about a fame hungry woman, and it would all have been very dull if it weren't for Alice's insight.

"She is only doing it for publicity. You don't go out for a night on the town with clearly visible nipples and wearing no knickers unless you want people to notice you. It certainly worked and you have to applaud her for that," argued Alice.

"Would you go out like that?" asked Kate.

"No way! I'm not that desperate for fame. And I don't think Jasper, my husband, would be too happy with me wearing that, well, outside the privacy of our own home anyway."

Next they talked about romance, which led to sex, and I started to feel exceptionally uncomfortable.

"What's the point in romance if you don't get an orgasm out of it? I'm all for the romance but sometimes I just wish Jasper would hurry up a bit. A girl's got needs! Although a naked rumba every now and then doesn't go amiss!" argued Alice. That was far more information about Alice's sex life than I ever wanted to know, and I feared that I'd never be able to rumba again without imagining Alice and Jasper doing it naked.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I was snuggled next to Bella whom I desperately wanted to have sex with. It was hard enough remaining professional when it wasn't being talked about. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a bloody hard place, although in my case the hard place was on my person.

We were getting a bit bored until our curiosity was peaked halfway through.

"Next we're discussing sexual harassment. Do we need to accept that sexual harassment is a fact of life or should we stand up for ourselves?" asked Kate.

Alice suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"My first job was as a typist in the sixties and the men we worked with felt that they had every right to make sexual demands of us. Most of us didn't feel that we could stop it, but I did and I fought for the laws we have now so we can stop sexual harassment," argued Lynda Bellingham, an actress who I knew from the previous series of _Strictly_ where she had been Jasper's partner. Alice knew her well.

"But sometimes you can't blame them, eh?" said Denise Welch, an outspoken middle-aged actress who was caked in makeup and flashing more cleavage than was appropriate for a daytime show, or anytime for that matter. "Some of us are just irresistible."

"Are women guilty of encouraging it? Work wear is getting more and more revealing," said Kate.

"Hell no! Men should be able to control themselves," retorted Denise.

"You have to admit that it can be difficult not to ogle men who are shirtless," pointed out Lynda.

"Difficult but not impossible. Anyway, it's fine as long as people look but don't touch," said Denise.

"Even looking can be harassing. We should be free to wear whatever we want without fear," argued Kate. "Alice, you've been very quiet so far. Have you ever experienced sexual harassment?"

"No," she said very quickly and quietly. Alice was looking very timid all of a sudden and most unlike her. I started getting worried.

"Really? Hasn't James, your dance partner, been getting a bit too close?" asked Kate.

"Last week it looked like he was trying to mate with you on stage," commented Denise.

"Jasper certainly didn't dance with me like that," Lynda said.

"No, James has been fine." I could tell Alice was lying. I decided that I would go and see James later and give him a piece of my mind. My hands involuntarily clenched into fists and Bella noticed. She started stroking my arm in an attempt to calm me down.

"We've got some clips that beg to differ," Kate said. They showed some clips of Alice repeatedly and increasingly sternly telling James where his hands should be, and the judges telling him that he'd been too close.

"Some people just find it hard to follow instructions," Alice said, defending James. Why was she defending him? He had definitely sexually harassed her in the first week, but Alice had convinced us that she had it under control. I was beginning to seriously doubt that. I was also getting worried that she was now being harassed by the Loose Women.

"Looked like he was deliberately ignoring your instructions," said Denise.

"If I'd 'accidentally' groped Jasper, he'd have given me what for," Lynda butted in.

"James gives me the creeps. If I had to dance with him, he'd be minus a certain part of his anatomy by now," added Denise.

"Is that how people should deal with harassment then? Violence?" asked Kate.

"Sometimes all men understand is a short sharp shock."

"Wouldn't telling human resources be the wiser move?" inquired Kate.

"Wiser maybe but not as satisfying," said Denise.

"So, Alice, how do you deal with James when he touches you inappropriately? And I'm pretty sure that your husband would classify the way James touches you as inappropriate," Kate pushed.

"If someone does something inappropriate at work, HR should be told," Alice responded.

"So, why haven't you told them?" asked Denise.

"Because I'm dealing with it," Alice snapped. Her jaw dropped when she realised what she had just said and her eyes filled with tears.

"So James is sexually harassing you?"

Alice looked like a deer in headlights and burst into tears.

"We're going to go to a commercial break now. Back in a few minutes," said Kate quickly and the ads came on.

I immediately got my phone out of my pocket and called Jasper.

"Hello."

Getting straight to the point, I asked, "Are you watching Alice on _Loose Women_?"

"No, unfortunately Jessica needs all the practice she can get, and her schedule is too tight for us to be able to do it at any other time. Is Alice doing well?"

"She was but they just bullied her into admitting that James is sexually harassing her."

"What!" Jasper yelled.

"Alice was forced to accuse James of sexual harassment. She burst into tears live on air. You have to get down to the TV studio immediately. I'm coming as well."

"I knew that wanker was being inappropriate, but she said she had it under control. I'm going to flay him alive, slowly," said Jasper, angrily.

"Just get down there. Now. See you soon."

"Bye."

I'd put my coat on whilst talking to Jasper and was desperately looking for my keys when Bella handed them to me.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

"No, we don't want to crowd her, but can you please call the producers and the Beeb's HR? They need to know what just happened. Make sure that twat is suspended at least. I don't want him to ever touch Alice again. If they don't take this seriously, tell them we'll sue."

"Okay."

"Call me when you know anything. Thanks." I gave her a quick peck on the forehead and ran out of the house.

My sister's body was shaking from her sobbing. I hadn't ever seen her that upset, and it made me want to break every bone in that little shite's body. Jasper had made it there before me and was holding her tightly. I ran over to her.

"When I get my hands on that cunt…" I growled.

"Don't! You'll just make it worse. Why do you think I didn't tell anyone? I didn't want you and Jasper pummelling him and making the situation ten times worse. I tried dealing with it myself. Clearly I failed," Alice hiccupped.

I retrieved her from Jasper's embrace and gave her a big hug. "We'll make sure he never touches you again. Bella is contacting the producers and HR at the moment. She is going to demand his immediate suspension. He'll never work in this country ever again. He will pay for what he's has done."

My phone rang and Bella filled me in on what was happening and then I passed the message on.

"The producers want to see you ASAP. They're taking it very seriously and are going to suspend him while they investigate. They want you to go to Television Centre and they also want you to know that you will not see him," I informed Alice. "Can you go?"

"We'll be with you the whole time," reassured Jasper.

Alice took a deep breath. "Okay. It's better than hanging round here anyway."

We turned up at Television Centre and were quickly ushered into one of the conference rooms. Alice was fussed over with people constantly offering her tea and biscuits in an attempt to assuage their guilt.

Alice had to formally accuse James of sexual harassment and answer lots of questions. When I heard her confess some of the things he had said and done to her, I felt physically sick. She even had to ask Jasper to leave the room after he started swearing and verbally fantasising about doing James in. I felt like a complete failure of a brother; how could I let someone do this to my little sister under my nose?

"We've looked over some of the tapes, and we would like to apologise for not noticing something was up. In hindsight, it is clear that what he has been doing to you is inappropriate, and we should have protected you," apologised the producer, whose lawyer looked uncomfortable and coughed at the admission of guilt, clearly concerned for potential lawsuits.

"Until we have looked through all footage available and spoken to Mr. Kelly, he will remain suspended. If we find that he has been harassing you, he will be fired. We will tell him not to contact you, but we recommend not being alone in case he does," informed the head of HR.

The door opened and Mum ran through it. As soon as Alice saw Mum, she ran towards her and they hugged, both crying.

"Sorry it's just me, your father couldn't get out of his appointments, he did try," Mum apologised.

The lawyers, producers and HR started standing up and walking out of the door, but Mum noticed them.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked. "I have a few questions I'd like to ask you, thank you very much."

Mum looked like she was going to breathe fire, so they meekly returned to their seats. Mum took a seat opposite the executive producer.

"How could you possibly allow this to happen?" she demanded. "You film the rehearsals, do you not? You should have seen how he was treating Alice."

"We don't have the resources to film all rehearsals," said the executive producer, cowering slightly.

"He was very careful to only seriously harass me when the cameras weren't rolling," Alice admitted.

"You should still have been able to tell something was up. My daughter is usually very bubbly, and clearly she wasn't so bubbly in rehearsals. Why didn't you pick up on that?"

"We thought something else might be wrong, maybe at home? With all due respect, no one else picked up on it either."

"We noticed and brought up the issue with Alice, who told us she had it under control. The production staff and camera crew see far more than the rest of us; we get a few brief glimpses. You have hours of tapes. You were not taking suitable care of your staff," Mum argued.

"You also could have realised what was going on by looking at the dances. Alice usually choreographs beautiful, elegant dances, but he has made them vulgar. Compare this year with previous years and you will notice the difference," Mum pointed out.

"You didn't notice," the producer quietly pointed it out.

"I did and I mentioned it to Alice, who said she was trying her best to stop him but that was his style. You should have seen this sign and noticed how he was acting during rehearsals as well and put two and two together."

"We do our best," the producer responded.

"Your best is not good enough," Mum said forcefully, banging her hand on the table and standing up. "You had better deal with the situation properly or so help me I'll make damn well sure that you never work as a producer again."

I had no idea how Mum could possibly make that happen, but it seemed that the producer believed that she could. I've never seen a man look so terrified.

A tall man in the corner, who Mum clearly hadn't noticed before, cleared his throat. "If you'll pardon the intrusion, I would like to promise a full and thorough investigation. We will get to the bottom of this and will do our best to prevent it from happening in the future. I unreservedly apologise, and if Mr. Kelly is found to be guilty, I can assure you that the BBC will never again employ him. But we need to give him a chance to defend himself, innocent till proven guilty and all that. He is at this present moment in another wing of this building, and we are about to go and talk to him. Once we have done so, we will be in a better position to know how to proceed."

Mum looked him square in the eyes, and demanded, "And whom, may I ask, are you?"

"Mark Thompson, the director general of the BBC."

Mum appeared somewhat mollified by that. "And will you release a statement stating that?"

"We've already done so."

"Good."

"And now if you will excuse us, we will go and find out Mr. Kelly's side of the story. We would ask all concerned to avoid contact with Mr. Kelly for the time being. Thank you."

With that, all the lawyers, producers, HR and general officials left the room.

I was physically and emotionally exhausted when I returned home, so the delicious smell that greeted me was most welcome.

"You're home! How was it?" asked Bella, my angel, running towards me and giving me a big hug.

"Horrible."

"How is Alice coping?"

"As well as can be expected. I think she is glad to have got it off her chest," I informed Bella.

"Good. I hope you don't mind but I felt useless, so I cooked you dinner."

"You're amazing, thank you so much. I wasn't relishing the prospect of an empty home."

"It'll be a few minutes longer. Why don't you relax on the sofa while you wait? I'll bring you a beer."

I collapsed on the sofa and Bella brought me a beer. I switched on the TV and started to watch the six o'clock news. I had zoned out during the segment on the latest casualties in Afghanistan, but my interest was peaked when I heard my sister's name.

"Alice Whitlock has accused James Kelly, her celebrity partner on the BBC's _Strictly Come Dancing_, of sexual harassment. She made the allegations on ITV's _Loose Women_. The BBC has released a statement saying that it takes allegations of this nature very seriously and has launched a full investigation into the claims. In the mean time, Mr. Kelly has been suspended.

"Ofcom is also investigating how the claims came about. They have received ninety-seven complaints claiming that Ms. Whitlock was bullied by the presenter and fellow panellists on _Loose Women_ into the accusing Mr. Kelly of harassment."

I turned the TV off. I couldn't bear to hear any more. I was stressed and tense. There was only one way I could relax. I walked into the kitchen as Bella was finishing the meal. I plugged my iPod into the dock and "My Life Would Suck Without You" by Kelly Clarkson came on.

"Kitchen dance?"

A/N: If you are being sexually harassed, do something. Talk to your boss or HR about it. It doesn't matter how if it is a "joke," if you feel uncomfortable, report it. Never suffer in silence.

On a lighter note, 5is a real programme. Search for it on YouTube. Hilarious.

Glossary:

Loo: Toilet.

Ofcom: The Office of Communications. Regulates TV among many other things. People can complain about things they've seen on TV. Bullying is something people complain about (if you are interested in a real life example, Google 'Andrew Sachs, Jonathon Ross, and Russel Brand').


	16. Accusations

16 – Accusations

A/N: Note on pronunciations – weird English place name ahead. Keswick is pronounced Kis-ick.

Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my ace betas, rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180.

**BPOV**

Edward didn't want to be left alone, and so I spent the night at his flat. I was sleeping deeply in the spare bedroom when I felt the covers lift and the bed dip. I sat up quickly, ready to defend myself against the intruder. All the self-defence moves Dad had taught me just before I went to uni came flooding through my mind, and I prepared to strike.

"It's just me!" came the voice next to me. I looked through the darkness and just managed to make out Edward.

"I couldn't sleep and thought I might be able to if I was next to you," he explained.

"Oh," was all I could utter.

"Is that okay?"

"Sure."

Edward pulled me into his arms and spooned me. As quickly as I'd awoken, I'd fallen fast asleep again.

The sound of my phone alarm buzzing woke me up and reminded me that I had a horrendously early start to deal with. That, however, didn't explain why there was a pair of strong male arms wrapped around me. I realised that Edward sneaking into my bed wasn't a dream.

The alarm hadn't roused him so I prised myself out of his arms and got up to make him a cup of coffee. When I came back in with it, he was snoring lightly.

"Edward," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly. "Edward. We've got to get up and going. I made you a coffee."

He wasn't really responding, so I wafted the coffee near his face. There was still no signs of life, so I shook him more forcefully.

"Urgh."

"Get up. We have to get going now."

"Nope, we can be late."

"No we can't. In order to see Charlie and my gran this afternoon, we had to agree to take the first practice slot in Blackpool. We've only got five hours to get there. Get up now."

"If I drive at two hundred miles an hour, we can do it in just over an hour," argued Edward, impressively rational considering he was still half-asleep.

"You could; however, I'm pretty sure that the police will catch up with us long before we reach Blackpool. Then you'd end up spending the day in the slammer and so getting to Blackpool very late, thus missing our rehearsal. Plus, wouldn't you be slightly embarrassed if I had to call Charlie up and tell him you couldn't make it today because you had been arrested?" I reasoned.

"Argh. I'll get up." Edward virtually inhaled the coffee, stood up, and stretched. "I'm going for a shower."

"I recommend a cold one," I advised.

"Fuck off."

A quarter of an hour later, we set off for my hotel. Edward was barely awake enough to drive, so I put the Beach Boys on the stereo and pointed out to him pedestrians and red lights that he hadn't noticed. It was the most stressful drive of my life.

I was very grateful when we arrived at my hotel. Edward stayed with the car while I ran up to my room and quickly packed.

When I came down ten minutes later, Edward was fast asleep at the wheel.

"What insurance company are you with?" I asked as I opened his car door and poked him awake.

"What?"

"I can't let you drive; you'll fall asleep whilst driving. You need to put me on your insurance so I can drive," I said.

"No one else drives my car. I'll be fine."

"Edward, you barely slept last night, and the coffee you had clearly has had very little effect. You've just fallen asleep at the wheel. Let me drive while you sleep."

"No. I fell asleep at the wheel of a stationary car. That is completely legal. I'm fine to drive," Edward responded pigheadedly.

"Do you want to destroy your car, not to mention kill us? I promise you that if you drive, you will crash. Let me drive."

"No."

"Drive by yourself then because my sense of self-preservation won't allow me to accompany you. I'll take the train," I insisted.

"You can be really frustrating and stubborn, can't you?"

"I could say the same about you. So, am I driving or taking the train?"

"Have you ever been involved in a car accident?" Edward questioned.

"No."

"How many points on your license?"

"None."

"Have you ever scraped your car?"

"No."

"Fine. You can drive."

Half an hour, a phone call to the insurance company, and an extra charge on my credit card later, and I was on Edward's insurance for the day and was driving us towards the M6. Edward was fast asleep within ten minutes, proving me right.

The car was quite nice—it was way more powerful than mine. I had to keep checking the speedometer to ensure that I didn't break the speed limit; it was oh so easy to drive at ninety.

The one benefit to driving so early was that the motorways were deserted, although at seven-thirty they began to fill up. By eight-thirty I was crawling through the streets of Blackpool, following signs for the Tower. I found a nearby parking spot and pulled in.

"Wakey wakey, rise and shine, we're here," I said quietly, shaking Edward gently.

"We're here?"

"Yep, you slept like a baby the entire way. You'd nodded off before we even made it to the North Circular."

"Any accidents? Scrapes? Scratches? Dents?" he enquired.

"No, your car is fine, and I didn't break any speed limits either so no worries about fines."

"Thank you for driving," he said, as he got out of the car and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his inspection of the car. "Sorry I didn't trust you; I just don't like people driving my car."

"Remind me to treat you in a similar way when you ask whether you can take my car for a drive."

"When I ask to take your car for a drive?"

"Trust me, you will, everyone does."

I had a beautiful Morris Minor in mint condition. The only things that were substantially different than it was when it came out of the factory in 1957 is the engine, which I had replaced with a hybrid, and the colour; I had painted it powder blue. The car has been passed down from my grandfather to my father and then to me, and it was a matter of great pride to me. I got many comments about it, and I was fairly certain that Edward, like many before him, would want to try driving it. Having said that, the colour may be a little too feminine for his tastes.

"Come on, we've got some practicing to do," said Edward, rolling his eyes.

The Tower Ballroom was stunningly opulent; it was painted cream, with plenty of gold mouldings and red velvet stage curtains. There were also lots of seats; the audience was going to be huge this week. There was an energy in the room, and I couldn't wait to dance there. I realised that I was smiling like a loon.

Edward was looking at me, amused. "May I have this dance?" he asked, offering me his arm.

I took it and smiled broadly. Edward led me to my starting position and then went to his. He nodded slightly and if by magic, "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" rang out throughout the room.

I pulled my shapes before Edward danced to me. Dancing close to Edward felt even better than it normally did—it was almost like the room was magical, and it helped make our dance the best it'd ever been.

After our two hours of practice in the ballroom were up, we headed to the temporary costume department for our fittings. Shelley and Nessie had set up a considerably smaller version of their Aladdin's cave backstage at Television Centre.

Nessie was kneeling in front of Jake's trousers, under the guise of fitting them, when we came in, but she was focussing a little bit too much on the zip for my liking. Neither of them seemed to notice our presence, and it looked likely to morph into a bad porno had Edward not coughed.

They both looked round, startled. Noticing us, Jake adjusted himself and stepped back.

"Is it eleven already?" Nessie asked.

"Yes," replied Edward tersely.

"It's my time in the ballroom. I'd better be going," said Jake, kissing Nessie goodbye.

"We'll finish up the fitting later, shall we?" asked Nessie, winking at Jake.

"Of course, I wouldn't want my costume to be ill-fitting now, would I?"

Watching them flirt was just plain awkward. I looked anywhere else but at Nessie or Jake, trying to pretend that I hadn't just witnessed that. Edward seemed to be doing the same.

"Where is Shelley?" I asked.

"We haven't bought enough sequins, and so she is hunting in the local haberdasheries," Nessie explained.

"That's very convenient," Edward commented. I kicked him and Nessie blushed.

With Jake gone, Nessie reverted to her professional manner and handed us our costumes. As is befitting an Argentine Tango, my dress was red. The skirt was knee length but was made of a very thin satin, so there would be lots of flashing my knickers. The dress was backless, and it was held up with only spaghetti straps and was almost as low at the front as it was at the back. It would inevitably only be down to the miracle of tit tape that this dress would stay put.

I went into the hastily constructed changing booth and slipped into my outfit. Coming out of the booth, I saw Edward wearing a variation of the same wonderful outfit he wore every week we did a Latin dance—very revealing black trousers and a tight opaque black shirt. The shirt showed Edward's well-defined chest and made me wonder what Nessie and Shelley had been thinking—how was I supposed to be able to concentrate on the dancing when I had his barely-concealed chest shoved in my face for most of the dance? Thankfully the effect of the shirt was ruined somewhat by the red sequined tie. He matched me, but now looked camp.

As Nessie took my hem up, I quizzed her about Jake. "Going well with Jake, I take it?"

"Very well," she answered, smiling to herself.

"His parents live fairly close, don't they? Will they be coming to the show?"

"Yes."

"So you'll be meeting the parents! Nervous?"

"Jake's told me that they'll love me, so I don't need to be nervous," said Nessie.

"And you believe him? Everyone says that. I told that to the last man I introduced to my dad and then my dad pointed his police issued gun at him. The fact that it wasn't loaded wasn't much of a consolation." Edward, who was sitting in the corner waiting his turn, gulped. "Admittedly it turned out that my dad was right to point a gun at him, but still…"

"I think it's fairly unlikely that Jake's parents will be armed," Nessie pointed out.

"Isn't Jake's dad a farmer? Farmers can have guns, although he wouldn't be allowed to carry it around with him when he's not on the farm. You should be fine."

"Women don't have to worry about the father when they meet the parents. It's the mother they have to be concerned about," Edward commented, "The mother who is used to being the number one woman in their son's life and is getting usurped. Convince her that you can look after her son and you'll be fine."

"Make some rotis. Jake said that is one of his mum's main criteria for future daughter-in-laws," I suggested.

"We're going to his parent's place after the show and will be spending the whole of Sunday there, so I fully expect to be tested on my roti making ability. I've been practicing all week," Nessie reassured us.

Wanting to take the heat off Nessie, I decided that it was time to have a laugh at Edward's expense. "Edward's meeting my dad and gran this afternoon," I said.

"Oh really, and would this be the father who owns a gun?"

"Technically the police own it," I corrected, "but he looks after it."

"Have fun, Edward," Nessie teased.

Edward smiled weakly.

"He's not that bad, and being a police officer he knows full well all the laws he is breaking if he threatens you with a gun, loaded or not."

"That didn't stop him last time," Edward observed.

"Yeah, but that was Paul and he was a twat. Charlie was totally right to threaten him. You're lovely, and Charlie will see that, so the gun will remain locked away."

"Other than being a twat, what did Paul do to deserve having a gun pointed at him?" Nessie enquired.

"Took my virginity. But clearly you can't do that and you haven't done anything remotely similar, so you'll be fine," I told Edward optimistically.

Edward did not look at all convinced.

"Okay, Bella, this dress is done. Hop off the pedestal and get changed into your ball gown. Edward, it's your turn," said Nessie.

Edward was very quiet through his, admittedly quick, fitting. He looked just like he had prior to singing on TV—very nervous.

Nessie and I kept up the chatter throughout Edward's fitting and my second, but nothing we could say distracted Edward from his sense of impending doom.

Soon enough we were back in the car and on the M62 heading to Keswick, this time with Edward safely back in the driving seat. To try and distract Edward from what was coming, I put the radio on and attempted to persuade him to sing along. It didn't work.

"What is Charlie interested in?" Edward asked.

"Why?"

"So I can have things to talk to him about," he explained.

"Good luck." I laughed. "He only has two real interests: fishing and football."

"Shit. What team?"

"Carlisle United."

"I didn't even know that Carlisle had a team; I know fuck all about them or fishing."

"Just watch a game with him, and you'll win him over," I advised.

This suggestion did not cheer Edward up as much as I had hoped it would.

The news on the radio didn't help Edward's mood either.

"_Strictly_gate continues," said the newsreader. "James Kelly has issued a statement denying that he sexually harassed Alice Whitlock: 'Alice and I had a friendly banter going on; there was nothing more to it than that. If she felt that our banter was harassing her then I am sorry, but in no way was that my intention, and frankly she harassed me right back.'" James laughed at the end of his statement. The bastard laughed. Not only had the tosspot refused to admit any wrongdoing but he had found it amusing. I wondered how Alice was taking the latest development. His denial was bound to drag out the enquiry and make Alice's life a misery.

Edward's knuckles were white on the steering wheel because he was gripping it so tightly, and he was looking murderous. His tense driving was fine for the motorway, but once we left the straight highway with minimal hazards, I didn't think his driving would be up to par.

"Edward, there is a service station in half a mile, pull into it."

"I don't need a break," he said angrily.

"Yes, you do, and you need to call Jasper to find out how Alice is doing."

"Fine."

Without looking, he abruptly changed lanes to leave the motorway and confirmed that I was correct.

Even his parking was scary—only braking at the last possible second.

"Call Jasper," I told him. "Can you put it on speakerphone, please? I want to hear how she is doing."

Edward nodded and turned the loudspeaker on.

Edward got straight to the point. "Jasper, how is she?"

"Better than can be expected, although she took her anger out on her poor Porsche and the motorway this morning."

"She's in Blackpool?" Edward asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I have to be here, and she didn't want to be apart from me. She is also desperate to prevent him from getting in the way of her job," Jasper explained. "She will still dance the samba on Saturday."

"How did she take the news about James' denial?" Edward enquired.

"Not well. It set her off crying again. She now has to give formal evidence in an HR tribunal."

"Shit. Is there anything we can do to help?" offered Edward.

"Just treat her normally, help her forget what has happened," Jasper suggested. "I've got to go. I'm in the middle of a practice, and I need to get back to that. Thanks for calling."

"See you soon."

Edward ended the call and took a deep breath. "I should've kept a better eye on her."

"You didn't know what was happening. This isn't your fault. All we can do now is help her get over it. If she wants to cry, give her your shoulder. If she wants to laugh, do something fun with her," I advised.

"I shouldn't have let it happen."

"You can't wrap people up in cotton wool. Unfortunately these things happen. When they do, we have to be there for them," I said. Edward looked unconvinced and still pretty angry, too angry to drive. "We're getting off at the next exit on the motorway. Let me drive, I know the way, and there are some stunning views you won't be able to appreciate if you're driving. I've seen these views loads of times, so now it's your turn. Let me drive while you play the tourist."

Edward looked at me. "Fine," he huffed. Even through his anger he could see sense.

Once we got off the motorway we were soon driving around the twisting and turning roads that ran alongside the huge, beautiful lakes. While Edward was pretending to be annoyed that I had insisted on driving, I think he was secretly grateful; the atmosphere in the car seemed a little more relaxed.

We drove through the small, winding roads of Keswick and pulled up in front of Gran and Charlie's cottage. A few years ago, Gran had reached the age where it was difficult for her to live in a two-storey house, so instead of moving to sheltered accommodation, the house was turned into two flats and Charlie moved in upstairs. Gran kept her independence, and Charlie was able to keep a close eye on her. Although sometimes I had the sneaking suspicion that Gran was the one looking after Charlie.

I jumped out of the car whereas Edward got out very hesitantly.

"Come on, it won't be that bad," I said, opening the boot and removing the apple pie I'd made for Gran the day before. "Let's get it over and done with."

I gave him a hug, took him by the hand, and led him to the back door. For reasons that I cannot fathom, friends and relatives, and in Gran's case even her postman, never enter through the front door in the North. If the back door is accessible, you always use that. Perhaps it is so you can sneak up better and catch the residents doing something they shouldn't be. Whatever the reason I knew better than to ring the doorbell.

Edward looked a bit confused as I led him into the back garden, opened the door, and walked into the kitchen.

"Knock, knock," I said, placing the apple pie on the kitchen table and walking into the living room.

"Bella, love, you're here!" cried my gran as she slowly rose from her comfy chair in front of the TV. She pulled me into one of her cushion like hugs. Over the years, Gran, who was never tall in the first place, had shrunk and my chin now comfortably rested on the top of her head. The hugs she gave were like no one else's in the world, and it made me realise how much I'd missed her.

"I've missed you, Gran. Sorry I haven't visited more frequently," I apologised, pulling away from the hug.

"Don't be silly; you live so far away and are really busy. You've got far better things to do than visit me."

"No, I don't. I'll visit more frequently, I promise." I turned to Edward. "Sorry, I'm being rude. Gran, I'd like you to meet Edward Cullen. Edward, Edith Swan."

Edward stepped forward and shook Gran's hand very politely. "How do you do, Mrs. Swan?"

Gran giggled. "Call me Edith! It is lovely to meet you. I'm a big fan of _Strictly_, and you've been my favourite dancer for years. I always voted for you, as did Bella, didn't you?"

Shit. I had hoped Gran wouldn't drop me in it. Calling Gran after all the dances on _Strictly _and discussing which couple to vote for was a tradition of ours, although the discussion was fairly redundant if Edward was still in the competition; he always got our vote, no matter how bad his partner was. Sadly, we'd never voted for him because of his dancing ability, but rather how damned fit he looked.

Edward's eyes twinkled wickedly, and I could tell he was enjoying himself. If this was helping to get him out of his bad mood then I would man up and take some embarrassment.

"Did she?"

"Oh yes, you were her favourite too. Bella had a bit of a crush, didn't you?" Gran revealed.

Fuck. She had now divulged far too much information. I hoped in vain that the ground would swallow me up. I was prepared to be slightly embarrassed, but this was going too far.

Edward just looked highly amused, which made that revelation almost worth it. Almost.

"I was surprised when Bella called and told me she was going to be on _Strictly_. We used to daydream about the reality TV shows we'd go on if we could, and she'd always chose _Come Dine with Me_… I, on the other hand, wanted to be on _Strictly_…"

Thankfully, before Gran could reveal anything else embarrassing, the back door opened and Charlie came into the living room.

"Dad!" I said and walked over to give him one of our awkward hugs.

After the requisite number of pats (three) I pulled away.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Fine. You?"

"Fine. How is work?"

"Fine. You?"

"'S alright."

Topics of conversation now exhausted, I introduced Charlie to Edward.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet my friend and colleague, Edward Cullen."

Charlie appraised Edward. "Friend and colleague only?"

"Yes," I replied, trying not to let my disappointment that this was the case show.

Charlie looked appeased. "Pleasure to meet you, Edward." They shook hands and the tension in the room dissipated slightly.

"Can I get anyone a cuppa?" Gran asked. After general acquiescence, Gran went off to make them. "Can I have some help, Charlie?" she added, clearly wanting to have a word with him.

Edward and I sat in silence and could most unfortunately hear everything Gran was saying to Charlie; sadly Gran is slightly deaf and so speaks very loudly.

"You have to be nicer to Bella's suitors, otherwise you'll never get to meet them," Gran said.

"Edward is not a 'suitor'!"

"I know a courting couple when I see one, and they're courting. He was terrified to meet you—he was practically shaking—if they were just friends and colleagues, he wouldn't be so scared," Gran reasoned.

Edward and I listened in an awkward silence, trying to pretend that we had not heard that.

"I'm a superintendent. A lot of people get very nervous around me. There is something shifty about that one."

"You will not run a background check on him!" Gran said sternly. There was a pause. "You already have, haven't you? Charles!"

My father was always overprotective. It was his way of showing me that he loved me. But that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Better safe than sorry. Anyway, they said themselves that they are just friends."

"They lied. Now be nice to him. Ooh, what's this pie doing here? Find out will you, Charlie?"

Soon we were drinking tea and eating apple pie.

"It is so kind of you to make me apple pie, Bella," said Gran.

"I know you love it, and I had some time on my hands. Really you should be thanking Edward as well; he let me use his kitchen and ingredients," I replied, trying to get Edward into Charlie's good books.

Gran took a bite of the apple pie. "It's as hard as buggery!"

I burst into a fit of giggles, and Edward succumbed as well. "The crust is a little bit on the hard side, but as hard as buggery?" I asked and started giggling again, until I caught Charlie's eye. He was not amused; clearly he didn't want to think of buggery in connection to either his mother or daughter.

"Are you two going to come out with me on the boat this afternoon?" Charlie asked, trying to change the topic of conversation.

"We'd love to; we haven't got long but a quick trip around the island would be lovely," I replied.

"Good."

A pause followed before Edward decided to break it. "We brought two tickets for Saturday's show. We were hoping we could convince you two to come."

"I'd love to, dear, but I can't make it that far," said Gran.

"How about if I drove you?" he offered.

"That is a lovely offer, but I really can't manage it."

"That is a shame. I know that Bella would love to have you there. How about instead we give you a little preview of our dance for this week?" Edward suggested, revealing how little he knew about his surroundings. Quite where we'd find the space was uncertain, possibly the frozen lawn…

"Ooh! I'd love that," Gran responded, delighted.

"Good, consider it done. And how about you, Superintendent, will you come?"

"I'm not sure it's my cup of tea," Charlie replied.

"But I bet Sue would love to go! He's been stepping out with Sue from the Tourist Information Centre," Gran explained, "and she's a big fan."

Charlie was dating again? He had been a bachelor for twenty-five years, and never, to my knowledge, had he shown any inclination towards dating. He'd been a friend of Sue's husband, who sadly had died the previous year, and there had never been any indications that she was any more to him than Harry's wife. What made this all change?

"Please come, Dad, I'd really appreciate it," I implored.

"Well, I suppose Sue will enjoy it," he said begrudgingly.

"So you'll come?" I asked.

"Yes."

This time I hugged him properly.

It had been a lovely afternoon. First we'd performed our Argentine Tango for Gran, who had loved it. Then we'd gone out with Charlie on the police boat. The scenery was stunning: the sky was blue, the leaves were beautiful shades of yellow, red and amber, and the water was calm. Charlie and Edward got chatting and got on fairly well, although Charlie was still hesitant and distrustful of Edward.

We both needed a good night's sleep, so we headed back to Blackpool just after dusk. I persuaded Edward to let me drive until we reached the motorway because the roads in the Lake District are death traps after dark if you do not know them. This time he agreed with far less fuss.

We checked into our hotel rooms and then agreed to go for dinner.

"Do you know anywhere nice to eat in Blackpool?" he asked.

"I know exactly what I want for dinner, but you may think me mad."

"What do you want?"

"Fish and chips," I suggested.

"That isn't exactly healthy, but it doesn't make you mad."

"I haven't got to the mad part yet. I want to eat them on the beachfront, overlooking the sea."

"It's dark. The sea isn't visible," Edward pointed out.

"I know but I still want to do it. And we can have a stick of rock for dessert."

"And a visit to the dentist after that."

"Please," I pleaded.

"Fine, let's find us a chippy."

It is surprisingly difficult to find a chippy open after dark during the off-season. There were lots along the sea front, but they all had signs in the window saying: "Closed for the winter. Reopening May 2011." After half an hour, we finally found a proper chippy. We could smell the dripping from a quarter of a mile away and just followed our noses. Ordering two open fish and chips, with plenty of salt and vinegar (with the vinegar applied first, naturally) and extra mushy peas, we found a bench and sat down facing the Irish Sea, looking at the moon reflecting on it.

"These had better be worth it," Edward commented.

I took a bite and I was in heaven. Fish and chips is so simple, but so beautiful, and we were eating it the way God intended, at the seaside. Sure, it was near freezing, but that just gave me an excuse to cuddle up to Edward, and the chips kept me warm.

Half an hour later, full but freezing, we found our way into a pub. Two hours after that, we were fast asleep, and this time sadly we were in different beds.

Meetings were usually dull, but this one was less so. With all the changes that had happened in _Strictly _in the past week, the producers had called an emergency meeting. Everyone was supposed to there, but Alice was noticeably absent. Considering the reason I assumed that the meeting had been called, I was not surprised.

"As you all know, this week has been the most turbulent one in _Strictly_ history," said the executive producer, "But let's start with the good news, over to Emmett."

Emmett stood up. "In case you hadn't heard, Rose and I discovered that we're having a baby. It was a surprise, but the best surprise I'd ever had. Rose has resigned immediately because she really shouldn't be dancing. She'll still be at most shows, she won't disappear off the face of the earth. If you want to see the ultrasound, come and find me afterwards and I'll very happily show you."

The executive producer took the floor again. "I'm sure that I speak for all of us when I congratulate them and wish them the best. Charlotte Dixie has taken over from Rosalie Hale and will be dancing with Jacob Black from now on.

"Now we must move on to the bad news. As no doubt you are all aware, James Kelly has been accused of sexual harassment, although he denies this. Those claims are currently under investigation, and it is unlikely that the investigation will conclude until after the show has finished. In the meantime, he has been suspended. We have one couple less than we would like to have and so there will only be two couples in the final and not three.

"The main reason that we have called this meeting is to highlight our sexual harassment policy. Sally Hendricks from HR is here to explain in detail."

A well-dressed, if slightly strict looking, woman in her thirties stood up. "Hello, nice to meet you all. Following the accusations of this week, I have been assigned to keep a close eye on the goings on at _Strictly Come Dancing_. I would like you all to read and be aware of our sexual harassment policy; copies are being handed out now. If you feel that you are the victim of harassment, do not hesitate to contact me; my mobile phone number is on the handout. Likewise, if you feel that your behaviour could potentially be considered harassing, please check with me.

"Also in the handout pack there is a relationship form. If you are involved in a romantic relationship with anyone else at _Strictly_, you each need to complete a form and give it to me. This will allow us to better distinguish between sexual harassment and relationships. We are watching all rehearsal tapes very carefully to keep an eye out for sexual harassment. If we feel that you may be either the victim or the aggressor, we will be talking with you.

"We would also like to remind you men out there that you too can be the victims of sexual harassment; women can be the aggressors. There is nothing shameful in admitting that, it in no way makes you less of a man.

"At the BBC we take this very seriously. We are an equal opportunities employer and want everyone to feel comfortable. Hopefully these measures will help improve things. Any questions?" Sally paused. Everyone was sitting silently and solemnly. Most were looking at their feet. "Well, if there are no questions, I'll finish. If, however, you do have any, please call me."

"Thank you, Sally," said the executive producer. "Almost finished now, folks. On a lighter note, I hope that you all enjoy dancing in the Tower Ballroom. We always really enjoy this show and I hope that we can put the unhappiness of this week behind us and let us have a great show.

"Professionals, I'd like to remind you that there is a rehearsal of your samba in half an hour. Celebrities, enjoy your break. You are dismissed."

Bloody hell.

I went straight to my room to read the sexual harassment policy, and it worried me slightly. By their standards, I'd spent all week sexually harassing Edward. I'd swanned around, flashing my lingerie and being suggestive as much as possible. That definitely fell under the banner of harassment. It suddenly dawned on me how unfair I'd been to Edward all week. I should have respected him and his decisions, but instead I'd tried forcing myself on him. So I was unsurprised, but still distressed, when I received a phone call.

"Hello? I'd like to speak to Isabella Swan."

"This is she."

"It's Sally Hendricks here, you may remember me from the meeting."

"Yes, I do," I replied.

"I wanted to know whether you intend to fill in a relationship form."

I sighed. "No, I shall not be."

"In that case, we need to discuss your behaviour towards Edward Cullen."

"Yes."

"I have reviewed your rehearsal tapes, and I was somewhat alarmed by what I saw. Are you aware that Mr. Cullen could make a valid claim that you have harassed him?" she asked.

"Having read the policy, yes I am. I realise that I have been unprofessional, and from now on I shall ensure that I dress and behave in a professional manner."

"So you are aware of the harassing behaviour?"

"Yes, I'm aware that I have been sexually aggressive, and I will apologise to Edward," I said.

"Men, as well as women, can be the victims of sexual harassment, and it is often more difficult for them to speak out. I shall ask Mr. Cullen privately whether he intends to make a claim or not. If you do not hear from me, you can assume that no such claim has been made."

"Right."

"Please amend your behaviour in future."

"I shall."

"Thank you."

Fuck. I felt like a shit. I lay on my bed, closed my eyes and cried.

A/N:

Glossary

**Boot:** Trunk.

**Chippy:** A place that sells fish and chips.

**Chips:** Fries.

**Cuppa: **Cup of tea.

**Dripping:** Beef fat. The traditional choice of fat for fish and chips.

**Pleasure beach:** A theme park on the beach, a bit like Luna Park. Usually they are rubbish but Blackpool's is meant to be quite good, although nothing like a real theme park.

**Service station:** A place just off of the motorway with toilets, cafes, shops and petrol stations.

**Sheltered accommodation:** A housing complex where retired people can live independently but with wardens to check up on them and help them.

**Superintendent: **The head of a police station. The English version of Chief of Police.

**Stick of rock:** A traditional British seaside sweet (candy). It is a stick of hard candy usually about a foot long and the thickness of a dime, although their dimensions vary hugely. They have the name of the place running along the middle, so if you cut it in half it would read the same thing as it does at the ends.

**Tosspot**: An idiot.

**Zip: **Zipper.


	17. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Chapter Number & Title: Chapter 17 – Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas, rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180.

Someone knocked on my door, but I chose to ignore it and carried on crying. My phone then started ringing, but I clicked ignore without even bothering to see who was calling.

Then the knocking started again.

"Bella, I know you're in there—I heard your mobile ringing—and I can hear you sniffling. Please open the door," called Edward through the door.

"No."

"Please; I need to talk to you."

"No."

"I come bearing good news."

"Really?" I asked doubtfully.

"Really. Now let me in," Edward said authoritatively.

I thought for a moment. He might be lying, but I'd have to face him and my humiliation soon. Better get it over sooner rather than later.

"Give me a moment." I walked into the en suite and looked in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. In vain I tried splashing cold water onto my face. It made no difference, so I dried my face and opened the door.

I couldn't bear for Edward to see me like this so I turned away. I heard the door close quietly behind me so I assumed he'd entered.

"Are you okay?" he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it gently.

"No, Edward, I'm not fucking okay. I've just been accused of sexual harassment! I feel like a grade A bitch."

"You haven't been accused of sexual harassment," he asserted.

"Yes, I have."

"No, only the victim can accuse you, and no sexual harassment went on, so there can be no victim."

"Stop being so nice! Of course I've been harassing you." I grabbed the sexual harassment handout and pointed at a section. "Look at this bit: suggestive behaviour counts as harassment. I've been very suggestive!"

"Yes, you most definitely have, but that doesn't make it harassment," he responded calmly.

"Why not?"

"Because it wasn't unwelcome."

"What?"

"It specifically says here—" he pointed at a section above the one I had pointed to "—that such behaviour has to be unwelcome. Your suggestive behaviour was not unwelcome—in fact I rather enjoyed it—and therefore you were not sexually harassing me. I told the woman from HR that and she was suitably mollified. Still, probably best not to act like you do towards me with anyone else, eh?"

I looked at Edward, astonished. "Yes," I responded weakly.

"Good. I also promised her that we'd each fill out one of these pesky relationship forms. I know that technically we're not in a relationship, but we are probably doing what your gran described as 'courting.'"

All I could do in response was nod.

"I took the liberty of filling yours in for you. Just sign here," he instructed.

He handed me the form and a pen. I signed it, still mute.

"Excellent. I'm going to hand these over to the HR busybody as soon as possible to get them off our backs. You're going to get tidied up and then I'm going to take you out for a stiff drink. Okay?"

"Okay."

Edward got up to go, taking the form with him and kissing me on the forehead. He opened the door and paused just before walking through and turned to me. "Oh, and don't feel that you need to dress more modestly following this; I've been enjoying the view all week, and I would hate for it to stop." With that, he winked at me and left.

I sat and tried to process what had just happened. Edward had saved me, and what's more, he had said that he enjoyed it when I was suggestive, even going so far as to encourage me. Even better than that, he had admitted that we're more than friends, although the idea of "courting" seemed silly and old-fashioned. It's funny how a few hours can change things so dramatically.

I did as Edward said; I washed my face and tried to cover the evidence of my tears with makeup. Next, I put on my stripy jersey mini dress over seamed stockings and added a pair of red fuck-me heels. I looked at myself in the floor length mirror; I'd scrubbed up well.

Edward knocked and I opened the door.

"You look gorgeous, but perhaps not as suggestive as I would have welcomed," he said, looking me up and down. "Although those shoes are damn sexy."

"You're only saying that because you haven't seen me from behind." I turned around.

Edward was silent for a moment and then let out a long breath. "Stockings! Bella, you will be the death of me, and I'll enjoy every single minute of it."

We headed off down the stairs.

"By the way, your words could be considered sexually harassing," I observed.

"Not now that you've signed the relationship waiver they can't. You didn't think I was only covering your back, did you?" he joked.

I laughed. "In all seriousness, thank you so much for this afternoon. I'm sorry I caused all this fuss," I apologised.

"You didn't cause anything; this is all HR's doing. Let's have no more of this; I'm meant to be courting you, and so that is what I shall do. Come on. Let me take you to lunch."

The show seemed to come around in the blink of an eye. Today had flown by; Edward had been busy with the band, and later the audience. He was trying to ensure that they managed to get Sam and Leah's song right, and I'd hardly seen him. He had to help with the backing vocals because the singers by and large weren't grungy enough. As a result, we'd only managed to practice our dance once, which was nowhere near enough in my opinion.

However, that did mean that I got most of the day off. I had spent it at the pleasure beach with Leah. It had been years since I was last on a roller coaster, and it was a bit of a shock to the system, but we had a great time nonetheless. My favourites were the dodgems. That was the only point of the day that I was grateful that Edward wasn't around, because if he was, I doubt he'd ever let me drive his car again.

I also managed to have a cup of tea with Charlie and Sue before the show. Charlie seemed more talkative and relaxed around Sue; she brought him out of his shell. Perhaps their dating was a very positive thing.

It felt all too soon to be dressed in my red dress for the Argentine Tango and stood by Edward waiting to be announced.

"And next up, we have Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen who are now officially 'courting'! I thought that my generation were the last ones to 'court," but these two lovebirds are apparently bringing it back. Anyway, here they are in rehearsals," announced Bruce.

"How did he know? That is mortifying," I hissed as soon as our rehearsal video started playing.

"Relax, it's really rather funny."

"If we were actually 'courting,' it wouldn't be so bad," I fumed.

"I think you'll find it means getting to know someone with the intention of marriage," stated Edward. "So as far as I'm concerned, it's fairly accurate."

I was slightly terrified by part of that sentence but decided to let it slide for the time being. "Surely courting should involve being intimate," I argued.

"Not traditionally, it doesn't."

"So you have no intention of 'trying before you buy' then?" I asked.

"One day soon I intend to, but not now."

"Not even a little taster?" I asked.

"No."

"You are quite literally all mouth and no trousers," I noted.

"Soon I'll prove that I have trousers as well as a mouth, but not now—" Edward paused, "—we'll be dancing very soon. We should try and get into the right frame of mind for the song," said Edward, trying to defuse the situation.

I couldn't let that stand, and before I knew it, my mouth was getting ahead of my brain. "I think you'll find we're in the perfect frame of mind. You're blowing all hot and cold, all fucking 'perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.' Well, I for one am a bit fed up with all the indecision. One of us has to be honest and definitive, and I guess that will have to be me. I love you."

Edward looked at me, flabbergasted, and I reeled back in shock at what I'd just said. I didn't even know if what I'd said was true. I was certainly falling, but had I fallen? On his side, he had just admitted that he intended to marry me one day but wouldn't have sex with me? I looked at the camera in front of us and saw the red light that informed us that it was recording. I put on the world's worst fake smile and tugged Edward's arm to warn him. His face automatically masked his shock.

"Dancing the Argentine Tango, would Isabella Swan and her partner Edward Cullen please take to the stage," said the announcer.

Edward led me to the stage as I tried to compute what had just happened. I'd told Edward that I loved him, but he hadn't said it back. Had I just ruined our friendship?

Internally I was screaming at both of us, and my whole body was tense.

Edward walked me to my position and then went to his starting spot. The band started playing "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps," and I pulled my haughty, confident poses. Haughtier than usual but a lot less confident. Edward danced towards me and took me in his arms, and I channelled all my aggression into the dancing. I knew fully well that I was not doing my best; I should try and be seductive, but it was all I could do not to scream at him and run off.

At the end of it, I grabbed his tie a little bit too sharply and saw him splutter slightly. Really he should've been grateful I hadn't grabbed him by his bollocks.

"Well, that was interesting," was all that Bruce could muster. "Bruno?"

"What went wrong? Where has all the passion gone?" Bruno asked.

"There was passion, just the wrong sort," snorted Craig. "I thought Bella was going to strangle him at the end."

"What has Edward done? Is there trouble in paradise?" Bruno enquired patronisingly.

"Nothing, I replied shortly.

"Whatever has happened, you need to put it aside when you dance. If Leah and Sam managed it last week, you should have been able to this week," said Bruno.

Except that Leah had days to get over it whereas I had seconds, I longed to add.

"Sort it out next week and come back fighting," Bruno suggested.

The rest of the judging was too depressing to recall. In effect I was told that technically I was good, but I allowed aggression to rule, and that had ruined it. I was highly unsurprised when we were awarded six, seven, seven, seven; I had been expecting far worse.

The moment the cameras were no longer focussing on us ,I ran off backstage. Edward tried to follow me.

"Bella!" he yelled, running after me.

"Fuck off!"

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. Your silence was deafening." I made it to my dressing room and slammed the door in Edward's face, locking the door.

"Bella, please. Allow me to explain."

How had I fucked everything up so spectacularly? I was so sure that he felt the same. I tucked myself into the corner of my dressing room and sobbed.

There was a knock on the door.

"Fuck off, Edward, I said I didn't want to talk," I yelled.

"It's not Edward. I've forced him to go to the green room," said Rosalie. "Please let me in, you need to talk to someone."

I opened the door, and Rosalie immediately gave me a big hug.

"What did the fuckwit do?"

"I told him I loved him, and he said nothing," I sobbed. "I was so sure he loved me too."

"Whether or not he knows it yet, it's clear to everyone that he loves you. Actions speak louder than words, and everything he does screams how much he loves you. Sometimes men can be dense, and it can take them a while to realise things. I think this is one of those times," Rose reassured me. "Whatever happens, you never let a man know how much he has hurt you; it gives them the upper hand, and we can't have that now, can we?" I nodded in response, and my sobbing somewhat abated. "Good, I'm going to get a makeup artist to sort you out, and you're going to change into your ball gown, okay?" I nodded again. "Don't let Edward in while I'm out."

A couple of minutes later, I was in my ball gown and having my makeup mended. Soon no trace of my crying remained, except for the occasional hiccup sob, which I was trying to stop.

I stood up and Rosalie gave me the once over.

"Excellent. If anyone asks, you just went to change. Don't let him know how much he got to you, okay?"

"Thanks, Rose."

"No thanks necessary, you told me that I was pregnant, remember? I owe you. Now let's get going. We'll be just in time to watch Leah kick Sam's arse," she instructed.

I smiled and headed back to the green room. I took a seat next to Alice and settled down to watch Leah and Sam. Thankfully Edward was downstairs with the band because he was helping with the backing vocals, and so I didn't have to face him yet.

Leah was awesome. She took over the lead entirely, going so far as doing the traditional masculine cape twirling. Even during their lift, it looked like she was in total control, and she did it all without appearing manly. I was speechless.

As much as I hated to admit it, Edward had done really well with the band. They had avoided turning "Gives you Hell" into a lounge number, managing to make it rock without exactly copying the original.

The time that Edward had put into coaching the audience paid off as well. Sam was shocked to see the audience suddenly burst into song, and all of us in the green room joined in.

"When you see my face hope it gives you hell,

Hope it gives you hell,

When you walk my way hope it gives you hell,

Hope it gives you hell,

When you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well

Then he's a fool it's just as well

Hope it gives you hell!"

The dance finished with Leah's foot on Sam's chest, triumphant, and the audience gave her a standing ovation, whooping and hollering their appreciation.

"Well, that was wonderful, dear," said an astonished Bruce. "What are your thoughts, Len?"

"Unorthodox but excellent. I love how you switched the gender roles around entirely. Very brave choreography, Sam," Len commented.

"Actually, Edward choreographed this dance," said Leah proudly.

"Well, that explains it, so Sam wasn't party to his own revenge?"

"No," Sam replied stiffly.

"Wonderful. I love _Strictly_!" Len chortled.

"Craig?"

"Leah did remarkably well taking the lead, and your cape twirling was excellent. You need to make sure that your left leg is slightly more in line with the right, but apart from that, it was perfect," Craig observed.

"Rare praise indeed! Bruno?" Bruce commented.

"You go, girl! Show him who's boss! I loved it. Perhaps Isabella should do something similar next week."

"And lastly, the lovely Alesha."

"On behalf of jilted women everywhere, I applaud you. Wonderful. I think this is going to be a YouTube phenomenon. It'll go viral. I can't wait to see what you do next week."

"We won't be doing anything next week. I've thoroughly enjoyed my time on _Strictly_, but I never want to dance with this pillock again. Please do not vote for us. It isn't fair for another couple to get knocked out when I was planning to quit anyway," Leah appealed to the nation.

The crowd cheered approvingly at her thoughtfulness.

"I think that is very kind of you," said Bruce. "Go up to Tess for your last ever scores."

"We're going to miss you so much," said Tess as she hugged Leah. "The judges' scores are in."

"Craig Revel-Horwood," said the voice over.

"What else could I give but ten?" Leah almost fainted in shock.

"Len Goodman."

"Ten."

"Alesha Dixon."

"Ten."

"Bruno Tolioni."

"Ten!"

"Forty! That is the first forty of the series. Congratulations," said Tess.

"Thank you very much for that, but once again, I ask for no one to vote for us. I've had the time of my life but I can't continue any longer. Please let us leave."

Now that all the couples had danced, the professionals all rushed off to get changed for their samba.

I took the opportunity to congratulate Leah. "That was amazing. A very well deserved forty points."

"I can't believe that I got the first forty," she commented.

"I can—you were awesome. How does it feel to have got your revenge?"

"Fantastic, and I refuse to do the waltz, so it was indeed our last dance." She paused. "What went wrong with your dance? What has Edward done?" she asked.

"It is more what he hasn't done, but if you don't mind, I'd prefer to tell you later as I don't want to think about it right now."

"Over drinks?"

"Many, many drinks."

The professional samba was very good, as you would expect, but I was nervous about the waltz that was to come after. I still hadn't spoken to Edward since our dance, and I was quite nervous at the prospect, but I was more worried that there wouldn't be enough time to do so. As mad as I was with Edward, I wasn't a quitter and wouldn't give up without a fight. I felt far too strongly about him for that, and I knew that he had some feelings for me even if they weren't necessarily love.

As we lined up to walk onto the dance floor for the waltz, Edward and I finally got the chance to clear the air.

"I'm sorry, and I hope you'll allow me to explain fully later. I really care for you, Bella, and I don't want to lose you."

"You won't."

"Really?"

"Really. I don't cut and run."

"Good."

Our waltz went very well, and Edward successfully avoided us getting blocked in, although he managed to temporarily block Jasper in, which seemed to give him a lot of pleasure. However, the amount of pleasure they got from it seemed to be nothing compared to Jake's, who treated it like a Formula One race, overtaking and blocking as much as possible. The waltz wasn't formally judged, but the judges did make a comment about each couple.

"It was nice to see your dancing is back to normal, Isabella. It was a very graceful and elegant waltz with no anger whatsoever," said Len.

We rushed off for a quick change back to our original costume for the announcement of the results. Everyone had to be dressed in their original outfits in case they were involved in the dance-off.

Normally I was nervous, but this time I was terrified. Our dance had been significantly sub-par, and it was all my fault. There were only five couples left, so we had a high chance of being in the dance-off anyway, but tonight it was almost certain.

Edward sensed my anxiety and held me tightly.

"The couples through, in no particular order, are," said Tess.

There was a dramatic pause.

"Peter Trelawney and Tanya Palin."

There was another dramatic pause.

"Jessica Stanley and Jasper Whitlock."

Yet another dramatic pause, if our name wasn't called, we'd be in the dance-off. I knew that we'd get through thanks to Leah's sacrifice, but I still felt sick to my stomach.

"The last couple through are—" Tess paused. Could she not just get on with it? "—Jacob Black and Charlotte Dixie."

I turned to Edward, and he hugged me reassuringly. "I'm so sorry; it's all my fault."

"It's my fault. We shouldn't get knocked out, but we still need to dance. Come on," said Edward.

"Would Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen, and Leah Clearwater and Sam Uley join me," said Bruce.

Edward and I walked over to join Bruce.

"We all know who will be leaving today, but Edward and Isabella still need to dance. Leah and Sam, will you also be dancing?" asked Bruce.

Leah took one look at Sam. "Hell no."

"Will Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen please take to the dance floor," the announcer requested.

"Please put all your nice feelings for me into this dance," Edward whispered in my ear ,and he kissed my temple. "I'll be doing the same."

I danced with all of the love I had for Edward and tried to make him realise that he loves me. Tenderness instead of aggression, love instead of hate. Edward also seemed to be dancing a bit differently than before; he'd always danced tenderly, but I'd always thought it was an act. Tonight I knew it was real. It was the best we'd ever danced.

As it came to the last "perhaps, perhaps, perhaps," I took hold of Edward's tie and instead of strangling him, I just tugged gently.

Edward's move after the last "perhaps" took me by surprise. "I love you," he said as he leaned in to kiss me.

A/N:

Sorry for the cliffhanger, I couldn't resist.

Glossary

**All mouth and no trousers:** All talk no action. Similar to "Talks the talk but can't walk the walk."

**Bollocks: **Testicals.

**Dodgems: **Bumper cars.

**Pillock:** Idiot

**Pleasure beach:** An amusement park that is on the beach.

**Try before you buy:** A common analogy for sex before marriage. The argument goes that you wouldn't buy a car without driving it first, so why get married without testing your partner?


	18. It had to be you

**A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight not me, and the Beeb owns Strictly. ****But the plot is mostly mine.**

**Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180 who put up with an awful lot of missing commas.**

**I'm useless at updating. Real life has been busy lately and got in the way of writing. Sorry.**

Chapter 18

EPOV

I was kissing Bella Swan, and I was stone cold sober. God, it felt good.

I didn't know if it was possible to convey emotions via a kiss, but I gave it my best shot. I tried to convey how sorry I was for not manning up earlier and telling her how much I loved her. I hoped that it wasn't too little, too late.

I ended the kiss and looked her in the eyes.

"I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Bella replied and smiled, and I couldn't resist kissing her again.

"Break it up! Break it up!" cried Bruce, making me suddenly aware of the fact that we were not alone. "This is a family show!"

I reluctantly pulled away and looked around to see the standing ovation that the audience was giving us. Unfortunately, I also saw Charlie, who was sitting in the front row and did not look pleased. In fact, he looked decidedly pissed off.

"Well, that took you two long enough!" said Bruce. "Judges, would you like to keep them in? Craig?"

"That was the dance I wanted to see earlier. That is what an Argentine Tango should look like, and it worked so well with the music. Of course we want you back next week."

"Excellent. Len?"

"About bloody time! That was a marvellous dance; I'd have given you a ten for that. Come back next week with a fabulous dance."

"Alesha?"

"I'm delighted for you two. Can't wait to see you next week."

"Bruno?"

"Does this mean there'll be no more sexual tension? I hope not. That was smouldering. How could anyone dance that with you, Bella, and not fall in love? We'd love to have you back, as long as you're on top form that is."

"We will be," I reassured them.

"Ah! To be young and in love," said Bruce. "We'll see them next week, but now in lieu of a goodbye dance for Leah and Sam, we're having a group improvised dance. Can we please have all the dancers back on the dance floor, for what should be an interesting dance."

The band started playing "It Had To Be You" and I was temporarily worried about how Leah would react to that song until Emmett grabbed her and started swing dancing with her. Clearly this music did not lend itself to a swing, but Emmett was concerned only with cheering her up, which this most certainly did. She was quickly laughing far more than she was dancing. Looking around, I saw Alice and Jasper dancing very tenderly together. I was very glad that Alice had Jasper to support her through the James nightmare.

I turned my attention back to the gorgeous women, who was in my arms. Amazingly she loved me, and while I hadn't had the chance to tell her exactly how I felt, I would as soon as I could. I wanted to escape with Bella, so that there would be no distractions separating us. Then perhaps go for a romantic stroll along the sea front before seeing where the evening takes us. I didn't want to be too presumptuous, but I certainly didn't want to be sleeping alone.

The music ended and the show was over.

"Do you think we should have a word with Charlie?" I asked Bella.

"Why?"

"He's been staring at me like he wants to kill me every since I kissed you," I explained.

"We'll deal with him later. Right now, I want to focus on us."

"I want him to like me."

"And he will, but not tonight. Please, I want us to be selfish now. We need to be alone," asked Bella, pouting and looking up at me with wide eyes. How the fuck was I supposed to resist that?

I looked up at Charlie, who was still giving me the evil eye. Thankfully, I saw that my parents were about to go and introduce themselves. I decided to let them deal with him. Hopefully they could convince him that I was good enough for Bella.

"Let's get out of here." I walked Bella to her dressing room, before leaving her to change into my civvies.

I got changed as quickly as possible and jogged to Bella's dressing room. I knocked.

"Come in," called Bella.

I walked in and saw that she was applying lipstick. "I wouldn't bother with that, if I were you," I said. "It won't last long." And then I demonstrated just that. "You look gorgeous, but then again you always do."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get into my knickers," said Bella, kissing my neck,."My room or yours?"

"I think we should talk first." Bella looked shocked and quite disappointed. "Don't get me wrong—I'd like the evening to end in one of rooms, but right now I think we need to talk. I love you and I want to tell you how much."

"Then start talking."

Bella ran her hands up and down my chest.

"Not here. I want to romance you."

"You've spent the last six weeks being romantic. There is only so much a girl can cope with. Foreplay is over. I'm a sure thing."

"Please."

Bella pouted but thankfully gave in. "If you insist."

We snuck out a side door, and I led Bella to the seafront. Walking down the steps from the promenade, I pulled Bella into a snog.

"I will never grow tired of that," I said.

"Edward?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you intend for us to walk along the beach?" Bella asked.

"Yes, I know how much you like the beach, and I thought it would be romantic… and private."

"As much as I'm appreciating the latter part of that sentence that isn't really an option for us. I'm wearing heels."

"And?"

"I can't walk on pebbles. I'll sink."

"Shit. This isn't a good start," I moaned.

"Then I guess it's lucky it isn't the start then, isn't it? Why don't we go back to my hotel room?"

"Because then I'll only have one thing on my mind."

"So? There is only one thing on my mind right now." Bella started grinding herself against me. God it felt good.

"I want us to talk first. We need to make sure we're both on the same page."

Bella sat down on the bottom step. "I'm listening."

I sat next to her. "I love you."

"I love you too."

I went to give her a little kiss, which quickly led to a full on snog and before I knew it we were all over each other. I forced myself to pull away from her.

"No, we need to talk. No more kissing."

"Okay," said Bella, with faux solemnity.

"When I said that I had fallen in love with someone at first sight, I was serious. That was you, Bella. I fell in love with you at first sight," I explained.

Bella looked a bit shy. "It wasn't love at first sight for me, but it was most certainly lust at first sight, and that quickly developed to something more. But I only realised that I loved you tonight."

"That's okay. You love me and that's all I'll ever need. You're it for me. You are the one. When I defined courting earlier, I was serious about the marriage bit," I admitted. Bella appeared a bit shell-shocked. "I know that it is way too early in our relationship to say it, but I want you to know what I'm thinking. One day I want to marry you, and one day I want us to have kids. As far as I'm concerned, this is forever."

"Being the child of divorce, I'm hesitant to talk about marriage and forever, " Bella explained, "but I would be very happy if that was the case. I love you."

"I love you too." Talking done, I decided that there was something much more useful we could do with our tongues.

A few snogs later, Bella pulled away. "Can we continue this indoors? It's so cold I can no longer feel my bum!"

I pulled her up and groped her bottom. "I can."

Bella laughed and kissed me again. "Come on," she said, leading me up the stairs.

Thankfully we weren't very far away from our hotel and so the journey wasn't drawn out. As we made it into the warmth of the lobby, Bella pushed me against the wall and kissed me hard. I eagerly responded until we heard the wolf whistles.

Bella pulled away and we turned our heads toward the jeers. Sure enough, the hotel bar overlooked the lobby and was full of our _Strictly _colleagues.

Cries of "Ten!" rang out. I responded in the only way that one can. I pulled Bella back into a snog while extending my hand and my index and middle fingers.

Ending the snog, I took Bella's hand. "Come on," I said and led her to the lifts. Luckily some people were exiting the lift, so we were able to jump in, but not before someone yelled, "Give her one from me!"

I flipped them off again just before the doors closed, and the lift carried us up towards our hotel rooms.

In the privacy of the lift, I kissed her like my life depended on it. As the lift stopped and the doors opened, we separated enough to be able to walk through the doors.

"Your place or mine?" I asked gleefully. "You have no idea how long I've dreamt about asking that."

"Let me guess, about six weeks? Me too. My place, it's closer."

Bella fumbled for her keycard while I continued to kiss and grope her. Eventually pulling out a card, she put it in and it didn't work. She tried it several more before looking at it.

"Fuck, you're too distracting. I just tried opening the door with my credit card!"

She pushed me away temporarily while she located the keycard. "Got the bugger."

Having succeeded in opening the door, we finally managed to enter the hotel room. I pushed her against the wall and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around me. I kissed her on the neck and worked my way down to her breasts.

Bella began unbuttoning my jeans. "I can't wait any longer. I need you to fuck me right here, Edward!" Bella begged.

"No," I said, continuing my ministrations on her cleavage.

"No?" asked a very confused and disappointed Bella.

"I'm not going to fuck you tonight, but I will make love to you," I explained.

Still concentrating on the breasts I'd dreamt of so many times, I carried Bella to the bed and carefully laid her down.

I tore myself away from the glorious breasts and went back to snogging her. Being careful to not break the kiss, we started to undress one another. Our jackets were quickly on the floor, followed soon after by our shirts. I was very glad that we both decided to wear button downs today. I temporarily broke off the kiss so I could admire Bella in her bra.

"Like what you see?" she asked.

"Very much so, but I think you'll look even better without it on."

"Well, there's only one way to find that out, isn't there?"

I eagerly removed her bra and used my tongue to show my appreciation. Bella moaned when I sucked lightly on her left nipple. Taking that as a good sign, I sucked even harder and was rewarded by a breathy "fuck."

I redoubled my efforts while I undid her jeans and slipped my hands under her knickers to touch her pussy. She was wonderfully slick, so I slipped a finger in.

Bella pushed against my finger. "More," she demanded.

"If you insist." I pulled her jeans and knickers down in one go and paused for a moment to admire her pussy. So wet and red. "You're beautiful," I told her, and she blushed. "Considering my current position, I don't think you're in any position to blush."

I leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her clit and Bella shivered. "You taste fucking delicious," I commented before licking her pussy. Bella ground herself down onto my face. I slipped a finger into her pussy and began to pump it in and out before adding another. I co-ordinated my mouth and hands and before long Bella was calling out my name and coming all over my face.

I crawled up and kissed her on the mouth again. I settled myself between Bella's legs, but before I could go any further she rolled us over until she was on top.

"If you think I'm going to let you take control entirely, think again," she said, her eyes gleaming wickedly. "You've had your chance to explore my body. Now it's my turn to explore yours."

Bella started to kiss my chest while her hands started to undo my jeans. Pulling them off, she snaked one of her hands around my cock. Looking at it for the first time, she commented, "Well, I thought I was going to be a lucky girl, but I didn't realise quite how lucky."

She kissed her way down my chest until she reached my cock. Taking it once again in her hand, she gently pulled my foreskin down and started to lick around the top, excruciatingly slowly. Eventually she started taking me into her mouth, bit by bit until finally she deep throated me.

"Bella!" I exclaimed.

She paused, looked up at me with my cock still in her mouth, and winked. The wink in itself was almost my undoing.

She resumed her activities, and I began to lose my grip on my senses. It felt so good, and I just allowed it to continue until I felt a familiar pleasure beginning to build up.

"Stop," I cried.

Bella looked up at me, my cock still in her mouth, confused.

"If you carry on, I'm going to come, and I want to come inside you. But for the record, you give a fucking fantastic blow job."

Bella pulled away and instantly I felt the loss of her. "Why thank you, kind sir, how nice of you to notice."

She sat up and straddled me with my cock just in front of her. She then leaned over to the bedside table, opened the first drawer and pulled out a condom.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"What? A girl has to be prepared. I knew it was only a matter of time before you caved," she explained as she ripped open the packet and rolled the condom onto my dick.

She moved herself forward and proceeded to rub my cock against her slit, moaning slightly. Then she positioned it at her entrance.

"I love you," I said as she slowly lowered herself onto me.

"I love you too."

"You feel so fucking tight."

"And you feel fucking huge."

Little by little, she lowered herself onto me until she was fully sheathed, then she leaned forward and snogged me.

Sitting up again, she twisted her hips in a circular motion, slowly at first and then with increasing urgency. The circles got smaller and smaller until eventually she was bouncing up and down on my cock. I love this position, not only did it feel great but I had a spectacular view of Bella's tits bouncing up and down.

I could sense she was close, so I reached in between us and found her clit. I circled it a few times before pinching it. Immediately Bella's body tensed up.

"Edward!" she cried breathlessly and collapsed on top of me.

Seizing my opportunity to be in control, I flipped us over, careful to stay inside her. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I thrust into her as deep as I could. But that wasn't as deep as I wanted it to be so I repositioned her legs so they were around my neck. Taking a moment to gaze in wonder at just how flexible yoga can make a woman, I then thrust in as deep as possible. My efforts rewarded me with the most glorious sound.

"Oh yes! Right there, right fucking there!"

It would appear that I had found Bella's G-spot, something that I fully intended to make an awful lot of use of. I aimed my thrusts right at it and felt her spasm around me.

I felt the tension building in my own body and tried my best to repress it. It was futile; I came the hardest I ever had.

Not wanting to pull out, I laid my head on her breasts as we both breathed deeply and tried to recover.

"That was fucking awesome," said Bella. "Why didn't we just jump each other six weeks ago?"

"Because I was foolish. We could've had six more weeks of this. Well, I suppose we've got lots of catching up to do then, haven't we?"

We managed to make up for lost time twice more that night, but then we came to the end of Bella's condom supply and were both exhausted.

"I was prepared, but not too presumptuous," was how Bella explained why she only bought a three pack.

"From now on I think we should be presumptuous," I replied. "We should have a cupboard full of them because I never want to run out again."

Yawning, I spooned her, turned the lights off, and we both promptly fell asleep.

I was woken up with a start by my phone ringing. Realising that I was naked and spooning Bella, I smiled; the previous night had been awesome. I extricated myself from Bella and got up to look for my phone. The floor was littered with clothes, and my phone was in my jeans pocket. Before I managed to locate my phone, it had stopped ringing.

I had missed a call from Emmett and I phoned back, worried that it might be something about the baby.

"You rang?" I said when he picked up.

"I did indeed. I want the details. What finally made you make your move? What was it like? Did she do anything kinky?"

"Fuck off. We agreed long ago to keep this stuff secret. We only ask each other private things if we think our knobs are about to fall off. Is your knob about to fall off?"

"No, but these past few weeks, I have been concerned that yours may due to too much wanking."

"You're one to talk, Mr. Won't-have-sex-with-his-pregnant-wife."

"Fuck off. So, are you happy then?"

"Very."

"Excellent. The real reason I called is because I'm still acting as your wingman. It's now nine-thirty, which means there is an hour and a half till check out. If you want to get jiggy with it and still check out on time, you may want to get a move on," Emmett informed me.

"Thanks for your concern."

"Bros before hos."

"And who is the ho in this situation? Bella or Rose?"

"Fuck. Neither. The point was that I've got your back."

"Thanks. See you later."

"Bye."

Bella was fast asleep and looked so beautiful. Her hair was all messy and the duvet was only partially covering her, allowing me to see her naked breasts. As much as I might want us to make love once more before we left, I was quite content to sit here and watch her.

I reminisced about the previous night. I was so fucking lucky that Bella forgave me after the balls up. I was just so shocked that she told me that she loved me that I was dumbstruck. Internally I was hi-fiving myself and shouting "She loves me! Bella loves me." but externally I didn't say anything. I wasn't quite sure how I could have been that stupid.

After ten minutes, I got a little bit bored of watching her but couldn't bring myself to wake her up or leave her, so I jumped in the shower. I was kind of hoping that the noise of the shower might rouse her and that she might join me, but I had no such luck. I came out of the shower to find Bella still as fast asleep as she was before.

It was then that I realised my error. All of my clean clothes were in my room, which was down the hall. I hated wearing yesterday's clothes, so I put on the hotel dressing gown, found Bella and my keycards and jogged down the corridor, hoping to avoid being seen.

"You'd better not be running out on her."

I turned around to see Jake and Nessie. They didn't look too pleased at me.

"I'm just getting changed into clean clothes and then packing quickly. She is still fast asleep," I explained.

Jake looked unconvinced. "If you fuck her and ditch her, you and me are going to have a talk," said Jake.

Jake was a bit taller and more muscular than I was, but I like to think it would have been a fair fight.

"Look, I love her. I'm not going to cut and run. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm wearing only a dressing gown and I have a sexy, naked woman to get back to. If you don't mind, I need to get a move on."

They looked dubious but let me be.

I got dressed and packed as quickly as I possibly could. I really didn't want Bella to wake up and realise I wasn't there. But as I was packing up the bathroom I noticed that the basket of toiletries that the hotel had supplied contained a condom. The prospect of round four only spurred me on.

Bella was still fast asleep when I snuck back into the room. It was now ten, and I knew I had to wake her, particularly if I hoped to get lucky.

I quickly stripped and joined Bella in bed. I was already hard and I pushed my stiff cock against her bottom.

"Mmmm…" she moaned.

I reached over and started massaging her left breast while I kissed her collarbone. In response, Bella pushed her bum against my cock, and I retaliated by pinching her nipple.

"Mmmm…"

She quickly turned over. "Can I get woken up like that everyday?"

"I'm very willing to be your alarm clock." I leaned in and snogged her. Breaking away, I fulfilled the duties of an alarm clock. "It is now ten and we have to check out at eleven."

"Ugh! We'd better get up."

She tried to get up but I held her tight. "Not so fast," I said, showing her the condom I'd procured.

Her face lit up. "Quickie?"

Twenty minutes later, we were both fully satisfied and panting on the bed.

"Any chance we could pay for an extra night and just stay in bed all day?" Bella asked.

"I would love that, but we need to prepare for the next show."

"Oh, I really enjoyed waking up next to you this morning. I don't want to go back to waking up in my lonely hotel room," said Bella.

"I feel the same way, and I may have a solution to that: move in with me."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I know it's really sudden, but it is the best solution," I argued. "We get on really well and have spent as much time as we possibly could together over the past few weeks. We'll probably end up spending every night together anyway, so we may as well do that at my flat which is closer to the studio and has a sofa, a TV, and, most importantly, a kitchen."

Bella spent a moment considering her options. "Now that you've mentioned the kitchen, how could I possibly say no?"

"So you'll move in? Today?"

"Yes, but only till we get kicked off _Strictly, _and if it starts causing problems, I'll move back into a hotel. Okay?"

"Excellent!" Now I had to make doubly sure that we wouldn't get kicked off. I didn't want Bella to move back to Avebury. I'd have to convince her that London is where she belongs, with me.

We checked out a bit late, but I managed to convince the receptionist to waive the late fee by having us sign autographs for her. Sometimes being famous has its perks.

The paparazzi were there to greet us as we left the hotel. Bella looked a bit shocked, so I took her by the hand and led her to the car park as quickly as possible. Thankfully the car park counted as private property and so they couldn't follow us in, but they were waiting for us when we drove out.

A few of the paparazzi were standing in the middle of the road, virtually inviting me to run them over. They would probably actually like that because then they could sell their story to the papers, and then sue me.

Carefully avoiding them, we drove off.

"Will they ever leave us alone?" Bella asked.

"When we become boring, they will. A few months after _Strictly_, we'll be old news."

"Will I be able to go back to my reclusive ways?"

"Not entirely; you can't get rid of me that easily."

I wondered what life would hold for us after _Strictly_. Bella would probably race off to the solitude of Avebury and leave me in London. Perhaps I'd follow her, but I couldn't imagine being able to put up with country life for long. I needed the buzz of the big city, and I highly doubted that Swindon, a large town fifteen miles away, would be exciting enough.

I wasn't even sure if I wanted to carry on with dancing. I really enjoy dancing with Bella, but when I had to samba with Tanya this week it felt like cheating. After Bella, dancing with anyone else just didn't feel right.

Following my singing on _Strictly_, several record companies had got in contact with me, although most were only interested in releasing "Just Can't Get Enough" as a single. I wasn't interested in a novelty single, so I'd rejected them. However, one label was interested in the possibility of an album. The trouble was that I liked to play surf music and that wasn't exactly popular. Also, I needed a band, and I wanted the album to be entirely original but hadn't written anything for years. If I were to become a musician, I'd have to do a hell of a lot of work.

My future was a blank canvas—I could do anything I wanted to do—trouble was I didn't know what I wanted to do. I wanted to make sure that Bella was a big part of it.

A/N:

**Please review. I appreciate everyone.**

Glossary

Civvies: Civilian clothes. In Edward's case changing out of him ballroom clothes into his normal clothes.

Extending middle and index fingers: This is the British equivalent of flipping the bird. Legend has it that this came about at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 when the French would cut of those fingers from the English archers that the captured so that they'd couldn't use a bow and arrow. Probably not true but a story nevertheless.

Giving me evils: Giving someone the evil eye.

Lift: Elevator

Snog: French kiss


	19. Bubble

Chapter 19 – Bubble

A/N: Alas, Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ not me, and the Beeb owns _Strictly_. But the plot is mostly mine.

Sorry for taking so long to post.

Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas rodeomom_95 and Mcc101180.

**This story is getting interactive: Please read the end authors note for a chance to vote on the next plot twist.**

BPOV

Edward usually drove fast, but this was just scarily fast. He was really impatient and was undertaking people.

"Fucking hell, Edward! What are you doing?"

"What? They were driving really slowly in the fast lane so I just did what anyone would do, I passed them."

"Firstly, there is no such thing as the fast lane; it is just an overtaking lane. Secondly, they were going at least eighty-five. They were breaking the speed limit as it was. Thirdly, do you have any clue how dangerous it is to undertake? It leads to crashes. Stop being a tosser and drive politely."

Edward huffed but slowed down a bit.

"Why are you driving like this anyway?"

"I want to get home soon."

"Why?" I questioned.

"Because I'm missing London and want to move you in as soon as possible," he lied smoothly.

"Bollocks."

"Because I want us to start practicing soon?" Edward suggested.

"Better, but you're still lying. Why really?"

"If I answer that, I'm going to ruin any pretence of being a gentleman that remains after last night."

"I don't mind if you're not always a gentleman. In fact, sometimes the last thing I want you to be is a gentleman."

"I'm horny. I want to get home and get you naked." I just laughed in response.

"Any chance of road head?" Edward cheekily added.

Horny I was expecting, asking for road head I was not. "Some pretence of being a gentleman might be nice. You have fuck-all chance of me giving you road head. I choose life."

Somehow we made it safely to London. Our first stop was my hotel room to pack up my stuff so I could move into Edward's.

However, it didn't appear that packing was at the forefront of his mind. As soon as I put the key into the lock, I felt Edward against my back, and he started kissing my neck.

"Do you remember the last time I was here?" he asked.

"No, why?" I asked as I opened the door, and we walked through. I tried to remember when Edward was last here.

"How can you not remember? It's been a constant fantasy for me ever since. I slept over, and you woke me up in the middle of a fantastic dream. One that I was also acting out." Edward turned me around and skilfully backed me into the bed whilst kissing me. He was good at multitasking.

"It's coming back to me…" I said as I fell back onto the bed.

Edward parted my legs and pressed his body down onto mine. "Hopefully it won't be the only thing that is coming…"

He somehow managed to locate and tweak my nipple through my jumper, and I moaned.

"Even fucking better than I remembered…"

He popped the button on my jeans and slipped his hand into my knickers.

"And even wetter too…"

"What happens next in your fantasy?" I asked breathlessly.

"Well, we're usually naked by this point."

"I suppose we better lose the clothes then."

We quickly stripped each other, and I managed to fall off the bed when we tried to remove my jeans. In my attempt to prevent my falling, I accidentally dragged Edward with me. We ended up lying on the floor partially clothed, laughing like loons.

"Turns out that skinny jeans increase the chances of getting laid but when it is time to get down to business they just get in the way." I laughed.

We successfully removed my jeans but remained on the floor to avoid falling again.

Edward and I carried my luggage up the stairs of his apartment block. I'd moved to London with only one bag, but thanks to all the shopping that both Alice and Angela had recommended I do, one bag was not enough. Well, at least I dressed far better now, although my bank balance was considerably smaller.

So Edward was not only carrying my suitcase but also numerous shopping bags stuffed with my recent purchases. I was carrying as much as Edward would allow – only a quarter of what he was carrying. Men! He probably thought that I was more likely to fuck him if he acted chivalrously, but our having sex again was a foregone conclusion so he may as well have dropped the gallant act. But then perhaps it wasn't an act.

We finally reached Edwards's flat. He went to grasp his keys but then realised that he couldn't because his hands were too full.

"Could you get my keys from my pocket for me? My left front jeans pocket."

I put my hand in his pocket and made sure to gratuitously rummage.

"Bella," he growled, his eyes darkening as my hand rubbed his cock. We'd only had sex two hours before but he was already hard. I was a lucky woman.

"Oh, there they are. Found them!" I said innocently, removing the keys from his pocket. "Which key?"

"The brass one."

I opened the door, and we walked through, dumping the bags just inside the door.

"Welcome home," he said, kissing me and pushing me against the wall. "I've been fantasising about making love to you on every surface of the flat. After that little stunt, I think we're going to have to start here."

"I thought we should move me in properly first, and perhaps have a cup of tea…"

Edward stopped my teasing by kissing me.

Our tongues duelled as we ripped each other's clothes off as quickly as possible. As soon as my bra was off, Edward was kissing and licking my breasts.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed as Edward bit down on a nipple at the same time as circling my clit.

"Oh God, you're so fucking wet."

"Fuck me. Fuck me now," I pleaded, fumbling with the buttons on Edward's jeans.

"As you wish." Edward quickly undid his jeans and rolled a condom onto his cock as I removed my jeans. Lifting me up, he dove into me.

"Yes!" I cried as he hit my G-spot.

Edward fucked me roughly against the wall and I loved it. It wasn't long before I came hard, but thankfully Edward didn't and I was lucky enough to come again before he followed soon afterwards.

Setting me down, Edward looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You deserve to be treated better."

"What are you on about? You just give me two of the best orgasms of my life and then you apologise? I loved it." I kissed him. "I love you."

"I should be making love to you, not fucking you against a wall, or quickly in a hotel room."

"Sex would get a bit boring if it was all making love. Occasionally a girl needs to get fucked. And I needed a good fucking. You provided me with it. Don't apologise."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, about that cup of tea…"

An hour later, I had unpacked and we were, sadly, fully clothed but were enjoying a nice cuppa and a HobNob.

"So, what are we doing this week?" I asked.

"It's a dance I've never done before—the Lindy Hop."

"I love the Lindy Hop! It's so fun. How come you've never done it before?"

"It isn't really a ballroom or a Latin dance; it's a, _shudder_, populist dance! They only introduced it last series for the latter stages of the competition, and I was out of it by that point, so I never danced it."

"So we get to learn together?" I asked excitedly.

"Yeah."

I hugged him tightly. It was nice to be on slightly more equal footing this week.

"One question—how can you choreograph a dance you've never done?"

"I don't. We get coaches this week."

"Oh. So it's not just the two of us?" I loved the freedom we had when we were in control. Sure, it was really Edward who was in charge, but he let me have my say.

"No."

"Do we still get to choose the music?"

"We may have some leeway there. In fact, I've already had a thought about that."

"Oh yeah?"

"'Valerie' by Amy Winehouse."

"Hell yes! Fucking awesome song. Bring it on!"

Edward and I weren't really on an even footing when it came to the Lindy Hop. Even though he had never done it before, he picked it up insanely quickly. Thankfully he was as patient as always, as were our coaches. We only got a few hours of coaching, so Edward and I had hours alone to practice just as we had in previous weeks.

The main difference between this week and previous ones was that there was nothing stopping us from kissing, which we did all too frequently. Staying motivated was really difficult. Before when I had lusted over Edward, I quashed the feelings, now I had no reason to do so, and he was very worthy of my lust.

Thankfully, the Lindy Hop was an athletic dance rather than a sexy one. Had we been doing the rumba again, we'd have spent the entire weekend in bed.

I hadn't realised quite how taxing the Lindy Hop would be. It was very energetic. Our coaches seemed to be elastic. Their limbs were flying all over the place, but in a very controlled manner. And the woman was getting thrown around the dance floor. Clearly they'd seen our previous dances and had realised that we liked doing lifts, but I had no idea if it was physically possible for me to do these. One even involved me being flipped over Edward's head. They expected me to flip head over heels, and yet another required me to be spun over Edward's back.

The first day of training was physically exhausting. Edward and I were both knackered and in pain. Our muscles were horribly stiff. When we wearily returned home, I immediately set about running a bath. We rested our weary muscles in a warm bath filled with a muscle soak bubble bath. It stunk to high heaven but at least it reduced our pain.

Despite the fact that we were both naked, there was nothing sexual about the bath. We were both exhausted and in too much pain to consider exerting ourselves in any activity. However, it was lovely. Just resting against Edward's chest and hearing his heart beating was enough for me. And it gave me hope that this relationship could really work long-term.

The next few days were all similarly punishing but gradually it got easier, and we began to put the dance together. Surprisingly it was good.

Living with Edward was equally good. I wasn't getting sick of his presence; I wasn't desperate for me time. If anything, I missed him on the few occasions we were apart. In the evenings, we'd relax by watching TV, or I'd do some writing whilst Edward played his guitar or piano.

I was surprised by just how important music was to Edward's life. I thought he played once or maybe twice a week, but in reality he played for hours every night. And he didn't play covers; he composed. It was a kind of music that I couldn't recognise.

"What kind of music are you playing?" I asked.

"Surf."

"How can it be surf if waves aren't involved?"

"Sound waves are," he cockily pointed out. "It's a style that started in southern Californian surfing communities in the 1950s. Think Beach Boys."

"Ah, it sounds great." And it did. I was being genuine. The music itself was awesome, but the lyrics less so.

"Thanks."

"Could we do a surf dance?"

"Surf music doesn't fit in with any of the dances unfortunately. Thanks for the suggestion."

We were in our own little world, and it was wonderful. On Thursday night, Jasper tried to drag us out of it by insisting that Alice needed company. We managed an hour and a half of socialising before we excused ourselves and returned to our bubble.

The Lindy Hop might have been exhausting, but at least the costume was far nicer. I didn't feel quite as underdressed as usual, although Edward expressed his disappointment. In keeping with the Lindy Hop's origin, Nessie had designed me a 1950s style dress. It was a sequin-covered halter dress with a wonderful full skirt. It was by far my favourite dress up to that point, and I loved it. However, much to my chagrin, they were making me wear heels. It was hard enough to do the energetic routine in flats, but I apparently had to do it in three-inch heels. I knew better than to argue.

It was the quarterfinal, and there were only four couples left in the competition: Jacob and Charlotte, Jessica and Jasper, Peter and Tanya, and us. A new sense of competition had snuck into the group. The atmosphere before the other shows had been supportive, but now the final was in sight and we all wanted to be in it. The trash talking hadn't started yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Charlotte and Jacob went first, and their Charleston was excellent. They were stiff competition. Jacob appeared to have had no difficulty bonding with a new partner, and if anything, it seemed like he got on better with Charlotte than Rosalie.

An erroneous thought entered my head—perhaps I shouldn't have helped Rosalie realise she was pregnant. It was that thought that made me realise that the competition was beginning to get to me. Rosalie and Jacob were both friends, and when in the right frame of mind, I valued their friendship more than winning.

I hadn't really considered winning before, but now it seemed that I was viewing it as a real possibility.

Jessica and Jasper did okay, but not as well as Charlotte and Jacob. One of their lifts went wrong, and Jessica got her leg caught on Jasper's head. No idea how she managed that but she did.

The very traditional Quickstep performed by Peter and Tanya was the only ballroom dance of the night. Peter was a little heavy on the feet, but by this point in the competition, the negative comments were really just nit-picking.

The competition was stiff, and it made me really nervous about our dance. Not only was it fast paced and lift heavy, but I was doing it in heels.

Edward tried to help me relax while we were preparing. Looking into his eyes always helped me calm down, and this time was no different. It helped that the dance was very much partner based, and so I was able to get into my Edward bubble and forget about the outside world. The moment the music began, I forgot about all my concerns and allowed my body to be thrown around like it was supposed to be. I even managed to smile whilst doing it.

For our finale, Edward did a flip over me, then lifted me up and threw me head over heels over his shoulder. I did a somersault. and as my feet touched the floor, I felt one of my heels break beneath me. I felt my ankle jar shortly before I fell flat on my arse.

Edward had his back to me but turned around as a soon as the crowd gasped.

"Bella, babe, are you okay?" he asked me, crouching down next to me.

"I'm a little humiliated. Can you help me up?"

Edward looked relieved that I wasn't too hurt and carefully helped me to my feet. But as soon as I gingerly put weight onto my foot, pain shot through me and I fell once again. Luckily Edward was there to catch me this time and swept me up in his arms before I could protest.

He was walking in the direction of backstage when I stopped him.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather like to be judged. We haven't put in all this hard work for nothing."

"Are you sure? Your ankle needs an ice pack immediately."

"Two minutes won't make that much of a difference," I pointed out.

Edward begrudgingly turned around, and we saw Bruce do a double take. I hadn't been paying attention, but he'd been desperately trying to fill in the dead air. Once in position, I asked Edward to put me down, and I stood one-legged, leaning on Edward for support.

The pain was beginning to kick in, and it was quite difficult to concentrate on what the judges were saying, but it seemed to be complimentary. They all seemed surprised that my heel had broken. I smiled and nodded whilst trying not to grimace. Edward picked up most of the slack.

After what felt like an eternity, Edward lifted me into his arms once again and whisked me to the greenroom. A chair had been arranged for me while we were given the results, and Edward kept my ankle elevated by holding my leg lightly. We got all nines, but the pain made it difficult to concentrate.

The moment the judging was over, Edward picked me up again and whisked me to the first aid room. He gently laid me down on the bed, and the first aider cut my shoe off. I looked at my ankle for the first time since it had happened, and I was shocked by how swollen it was. An ice pack was rapidly added.

"You'll need to go A&E. It could be broken. Will you be okay in a car or do you need an ambulance?" asked the first aider.

"I'll drive her. Do you have a wheelchair or do I need to carry her?" Edward enquired.

"I'll get you a wheelchair."

"Could you push her to the entrance while I bring the car round?"

"Edward, sorry to interrupt, but I'm not leaving until the end of the show. We may have to dance again," I pointed out.

They both looked at me like I was mental.

"Your ankle might be broken; you need to get it checked out immediately," Edward explained like I was a child.

"Yes, I'm aware of that. But I won't put any weight on it during the announcement of the judging, and so I won't do any further damage. However if we have to dance, I'll do it. I've worked too hard to give up now."

"I won't let you dance."

"I'll dance without you," I stated.

"That is impossible. Stop being a martyr," Edward said angrily.

"The rules state that we can only get one free pass because of injury. What if I can't dance next week? I don't want to sacrifice this week unnecessarily."

"What if they make us dance?"

"You lift me up and dance us around the dance floor?"

Edward pondered this for a moment, but Alice, Rosalie and Emmett interrupted us.

"Are you okay?" asked Alice as she pushed Edward out of the way and hugged me. "What happened?"

"My heel broke."

"Heels on dancing shoes don't break; they're reinforced. And you landed correctly. Your heel shouldn't have broken," Rosalie explained. "Let me have a look."

Edward handed Rosalie my shoe.

"Fuck me. Someone doesn't like you," she commented.

"What?" I demanded.

"Someone's sawn through your heel."

**A/N: Who do you think did it? This is your chance to have a say on how the rest of the story plays out. Please vote for whom you think may have sabotaged Bella's heel. Simply leave a comment telling me who you think did it and why. If you could explain why you think they did it that would be great.**

**The character with the most votes will be the guilty party.**

Thanks for sticking with me. Sorry that I suck at regular updating.

Thanks for the reviews; I appreciate them all.

Glossary

A&E: Accident and Emergency. The English equivalent of ER. Also known as Casualty.

HobNob: An awesome British oaty biscuit. I have a stash in my desk at work. Unhealthy but great.

Jumper: Sweater.

Loon: Short for lunatic.

Undertaking: You probably know what this is. On multi-laned highways it is driving faster than the driver to the right of you (in countries where you drive on the right undertaking happens on the left), overtaking someone in the fast lane. In my opinion (and that of traffic authorities in the UK) insanely dangerous but absurdly common in the US and Australia.


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